Run Away Princess
by theghostchic
Summary: Beneath their lies and deceit is where a fairy tale of love resides. She ran away from home afraid of being forced into marriage. And after two years, she lands a job as an assistant for an egotistic, arrogant, insufferable person she cant stand at all.AU
1. Casey Barrett

_**A/N: This is my 2nd HHr fic. Thanks for checking it out. It's an AU and magic never existed.**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter ,**

**Chapter 1: Casey Barrett**

Hermione sat in her apartment, nibbling on her bottom lip as she plopped down on her couch. She got fired from her job at a bookstore, a job she loved, but had horrendous pay, and not to mention the worst boss she ever had. It's been 2 years since she ran away from home because she was forced to be married to Ronald Weasley, a business tycoon and not to mention one of the most eligible bachelors of all of England—he picked Hermione, who was the heiress to her father's company. It was the day before their wedding day and Hermione decided that she wouldn't let her life be controlled. So she ran, she didn't want to be married, she was only twenty-one for goodness' sake! So she packed her bags and jumped on the next place to New York, found herself a studio apartment and a job in stacking books in a charming little bookstore.

That was when her life came crumbling down before her—she lost her job, then the apartment, and here she was, packing her bags and pondering on whether she go home and be forced to be married, or remain homeless. Hermione sat in her room, crying, her parent's had cancelled her ATM account, and had a private detective hunting her down. She lost the battle, and she knew it. Until her best friend Draco Malfoy came to her rescue, offering her to be his room mate in a luxurious flat in a high-rise building, which came with 2 bedrooms with en suite bathrooms. There was also a kitchen, a loft, a balcony and a swimming pool at the top floor. Hermione soon found a job as Ginny Weasley's intern, Ginny Weasley was an agent, who was looking for a replacement. As soon as Hermione found the job in the classifieds, she applied as "Casey Barrett" and got the job almost immediately.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and started pacing the living room, stealing glances towards the clock—Draco was supposed to arrive and help her bring her stuff to his apartment. She felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. She missed home terribly, as well as Ron. They were... fond of each other, but not exactly in love. A tear rolled down her cheek, which she wiped away immediately, sniffing. Two years of living alone, two years of being a nobody, two years changing hair colors and names, two years of... not living _life. _But she was glad that Draco visited her occasionally, they were friends since they were little kids and he moved to Manhattan 6 years ago. And now he's a famous business man who will soon take the place of his father as president of Malfoy Inc.

The loud banging on her door snapped Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Hermione?" Draco barged in, "Where have you been? We've been worried about you."

"We?" She asked, "Who else is there with you?"

"The driver, come on, they'll help you with your things." Draco said, dragging Hermione by the arm and walking towards his BMW.

When inside, Draco was the first one to break the silence, "Hermione, I'll just drop you off, alright? Your bedroom is straight down the hall to your right. I'll be off at a meeting in 30 minutes, I trust that you can handle unpacking by yourself, right?"

"Okay, Draco. Thanks so much. I'll just take a cab to work." She replied.

"Alright." He said, grinning back at her. "Oh yeah, I'm having dinner with someone tonight, so don't wait up."

"Okay." She said blandly, occupied in her thoughts.

---

Hermione sat in her bathroom, combing her hair—it was no longer bushy, and she was thankful for that. After taking one last look into her mirror, she walked out of Draco's flat—he had suggested to her that she also call it "her flat" but it never stuck, she always had that suppressing feeling that kept it from sticking. She walked towards the end of the hallway, waiting for the elevator. She waited patiently, enjoying the peace and ambiance the bright hallways gave, until a man wearing sunglasses, in a white button-up shirt with a blazer and jeans broke the silence, practically shouting into his cell phone. His jet-black hair was messy—she assumed that those were the styles now-a-days. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of hair standing up, it was anything but neat. The boys back home in London had their hair combed neatly into place—it was funny how she could still call that wretched of a place "home", her "home" was simply made up of exquisite balls and parties, everyone treating her like royalty, and the sad fact that arranged marriage was a tradition to keep the family business alive.

Hermione jumped slightly at the rudeness of the man beside her to whomever he was talking to, people at home—there she goes, again—we're well mannered, only reaching this sort of tone on something serious, not about coffee and scripts.

New York still seemed foreign to her, she didn't go out to enjoy most of it in fear that her parents would track her down. So she spent her two years walking from her apartment, to work, back home. On weekends, she'd go to the grocery and do a little shopping, and that was it. And in a week's time, her 23rd birthday would come out soon, proving that time was going by rather slowly, at this rate she felt like she was 27. She didn't go out like most girls, she had her share of fun back in the day, going to cocktail parties and eating out of expensive bottles of caviar.

"Shut the hell up, mother." Boomed the voice of the incredibly rude man—she had unwillingly heard his conversation—to the phone, making Hermione shudder at how his voice bounced off the walls, ringing in her ears.

"No, I don't want to go to some stupid charity work! I'm busy!" he said again then hung up the phone, she heaved another sigh, if she were like that to her mother...

_Ding_. Went the elevator, her eyes widened in shock, she was so caught up with her thoughts that she managed to enter the elevator and go down 27 floors. She rushed out of it, walking towards the front door, summoning a cab. "Lexington Street, sir." She replied—to the cab driver as soon as he opened his mouth—eyeing the rude man who was picked up by an expensive-looking car. Hermione felt a pang of envy sweep through her, and scowled at the man. He was so lucky in life—a mother who actually cared, a nice, safe ride to wherever he was going, he was obviously well-known but since she was too busy hiding herself, she wasn't able to pick up a magazine and read about him, or how much money he earned a year and such, it was a waste of time—yet he neglected it, she'd do anything to come back home and snuggle up to her mum and dad—without the arranged marriages and the bombarding of questions on why she suddenly disappeared for two years.

"Uhm, lady, I'm going to have to ask for your payment, now. That'll be 10 dollars."

"Already?" She asked dreamily, slowly taking out 10 dollars out of her wallet, giving it to him. "Thank you so much, sir." She said elegantly, she didn't leave her manners at home—she was almost like royalty, always expected to be the elegant, poised and graceful lady she is. She slowly left the cab, walking towards the building in front of her. Her jaw dropped in awe as she saw how beautiful and elegant the building was, she had almost forgotten that it was an office, and not a hotel. She walked through the glass doors nervously, fiddling with the charms that hung loosely in her bracelet, forgetting to breathe once in a while. She took a quick glance at the receptionist, who glared at her, as if it was _her_ fault that the woman's day was ruined—at least that's what she thought... Taking a deep breath, Hermione took small steps towards the marble table, looking around nervously, biting on her bottom lip.

"Excuse me, miss." She called her attention to the receptionist, who turned her head quickly at her and gave her a polite smile.

"Yes, ma'am how can I help you?"

"Uhm, I'm Casey Barrett, interning for Ms. Ginerva Weasley..." She was immediately cut off as she saw the woman in front of her picking up a phone and punching numbers. Hermione turned around to take a better look at the place while the receptionist was busy calling Ginny. She felt a lump in her throat once she saw the familiar expensive-looking car, and the familiar man walk right out of it...

"...Uhm, then you turn right and there's her office, good to be of service ma'am, can you please give room for the other people?" Said the receptionist smiling at her. Hermione wanted to ask again, she was too caught up gazing at that man that she didn't listen as the woman gave her directions to Ginny's office. "Miss, I don't quite understand..." She started.

"Alright then, Miss Barrett, you take the elevator to the 14th floor, then you walk until the end of the corridor, turn left and head to the end of the corridor again, take the elevator to the 19th floor and turn right—her office isn't exactly hidden, you'll know it's her office. If you have any problems, feel free to ask the personnel patrolling the corridors. I'm sure they won't have any problem helping you."

Hermione left the receptionist table in a hurry, rolling her eyes. _If it hadn't been for that man..._ If only she knew him she would give him a good scolding. People that absurd and rude should be getting what they deserve, not walking about in all their un-worthy riches and fame...She heaved a sigh, seeing as the 14th floor had 3 corridors in it, and the woman only specified for one. She tried the middle corridor first, since it was more colorful and alluring, she walked to the end of the corridor and saw another corridor to her right, but none to her left. She shrugged and went back. In a span of 15 minutes, she had already found the corridor, which was the one on her extreme left. She followed the directions accurately, afraid as if she would get lost in a building this humongous...

A slight 'ding' snapped Hermione out of her usual string of thoughts—which included that arrogant man (_even though she was lucky enough to have not met him_), her arrogant parents (_she was lucky enough to have not followed them_), if she would be imprisoned for calling herself 'Casey Barrett' (_there must be thousands of Casey Barretts in the world_), if Ginny had really recognized her, and the usual _"will Draco bring home a girl tonight? Where will I stay?"_—She had spaced out so much lately, that it's a surprise that she hadn't been run over by a car while crossing the street this morning. She squeaked at the thought, pressing her lips tightly together, trying to stop herself from bursting into fits of laughter. Then a certain thought ran through her head that made her heartbeat quicken and her face turn pale—how could she have thought of her death so... amusingly? She bent her head, once again, fiddling with the charms that read "L-I-F-E" on her bracelet.

Since then Hermione tried her best to stop her mind from wondering, monitoring the screen, waiting till "19" was lit up so she can rush off to work to keep herself busy—and try not to space out this time. But to no avail, she found herself floating towards the door to her right that read "Ginerva Weasley". She eyed the door worriedly, wondering how Ginny would be like, and slowly she pressed her lips together, lifter her hand to knock, then before her knuckles could touch the cold wooden door, it flew open, and along came that same arrogant man, his face flushed, grumbling angrily, muttering curses under his breath. She walked in nervously, afraid that she had disrupted something, but she heaved a sigh of relief as she saw that Ginny was surprisingly calm, smiling at her enchantingly as she entered the room.

"Oh Hermione! Hello!" Ginny exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "It's great to see you once again! How is Draco?"

"Erm..." Hermione said, not quite sure of what to say.

"Come on, princess."

"Ginerva, for the last time, I am not a princess! I am just an heiress who happened to be engaged to a business tycoon and a prince." She hissed.

"You guys still_ are_ engaged, you know. Why aren't you wearing your ring? Imagine Ron's surprise once he sees his beautiful fiancé, not wearing his display of eternal love proudly."

"We are _not_ engaged!" She retorted, plopping down on the couch beside her, tugging at the ends of her hair, "I cancelled it, and I am free as a bird. And if you tell Ronald..."

"If you consider 'free' as being searched for everywhere, for two years, with no money and no home..."

"I know, Ginerva... Can we _please_ drop the topic and let it rest? I'm your intern, remember?"

Ginny only nodded as she fixed the clutter on her desk, humming a song to herself.

"Ginerva..." She started. "You shall address to me as 'Casey Barrett' and if you tell Ronald..."

"Alright, 'Casey'. I won't." She replied smiling happily to herself.

"Promise?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at her, crossing her arms together.

"Scout's honor." Replied Ginny who was grinning at her, lifting her forefinger and middle-finger together, for effect.

"Now, uhm, Casey, could you get us some coffee? And die your hair back to brown, dear, black is a horrendous color on you."

Hermione mock-scowled and marched her way out, getting herself lost for the 3rd time today—going down elevators, taking glances towards maps and asking personnel—and after 10 minutes, which seemed like an eternity of white, bright walls, frilly paintings, and annoying elevator music, she finally found the cafeteria, which was on the same floor. She rolled her eyes at herself, taking her time while waiting for 3 cups of coffee to brew. She quickly walked to Ginny's office, walking as far as her heels could handle.

"Ginny, I wasn't sure about how many people wanted coffee and I got three, I hope you guys like cream and—"

"And here she is, Mr. Potter, this is my intern, Casey Barrett."

That familiar man looked at her with his brilliant emerald green eyes, shrugged and turned back to Ginny, "Am I free on Friday? I need to be free on Friday. I have a dinner with Cho. If I'm not I could always cancel..." he took out his pale hand and picked up the coffee that Hermione had in her hand, talking one sip and his face scrunched up. "I asked for black. This has _cream_ in it—cream's unbearable. Get me another one. And can you please get my glasses from my trailer? The contact lenses are irritating my eyes."

Hermione stood there, shocked, he was the man. He was _that_ man she loathed and felt lucky to haven't met him, maybe she spoke too soon. But he was unbelievably good-looking, even better than Ronald. "Erm, sir, I don't know where this 'trailer' thing is... and would you want me to get the coffee first?"

"I thought she was _your _intern, Ginny, why the hell is she asking me? Have you shown her around yet?" He replied, taking a sip of coffee that he said was "unbearable", mumbling something incoherently, which ended with the word "Intern.", he probably intended it to be loud enough for her to hear.

"Erm, Casey. The trailer is at the studio, Finnigan and Co. You go into studio 13 and go into his trailer. Take his glasses and bring it here, and don't forget the coffee... Here—" She handed Hermione a pass, "Its a pass."

"Alright..." She replied.

---

The day had been completely tiring, going back and forth into the studio to the office, bringing him this, and that. She hadn't expected that life would take a sudden turn from 'okay' to 'I'm the slave of an arrogant egotistic actor whom I never even heard of'. She had spent her day fetching him coffee, and scripts and the like. Answering his phone calls and canceling flights that she had booked on the same day due to the 'laziness' or as he referred to as the 'tight' schedule he had. She had been staring at the clock all day. In 20 minutes, it would be 8 o'clock. She could finally go back to Draco's flat—it still hadn't stuck. She rolled her eyes discreetly. It was not fair—Ginny had left two hours earlier than she had, and she'd just been sitting on her desk all day, not walking around in heels that were killing her, fetching whatever Potter guy needed.

She had thanked herself for spacing out this time, she had managed to fly through 20 minutes of just complaining about her git of a boss in her head. She stood up and walked eagerly to Mr. Potter's desk, collecting his empty cup of coffee and throwing it into the trashcan.

"Uhm, sir. It's 8 o'clock." She started, "Erm, and the intership is only from 9 am to 8... so..."

"Yeah, whatever. Erm, listen." He said quietly, "I'll be leaving in ten minutes so you have to stay behind until then, Ginny always fixes my office after I leave. But since there's no Ginny, you'll have to fix it."

"Alright." She huffed discreetly, walking back to her desk, putting her head in her hands. And as he said, in 10 minutes, his office lights closed and he went out, going into the elevator at the end of the hall. She walked inside to fix up—which had taken her longer than expected, she entered the cab moaning because she had already acquired blisters in her favorite pair of shoes.

"Stupid person. God, have I been so unlucky? Frickin birthday's next week and God. I wish I had come home and urgh. Stupid Draco for landing a flat beside that arrogant, bitch of a—" She stopped herself, if Ronald, or her parents had seen or heard her now, she would be disgrace to the family. Pathetic little Hermione, working for an actor instead of manning a multi-million empire. The ringing of her phone suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts. "Hello?" She sighed.

"Casey, I forgot something in the office, could you bring it to my—"

"I'm already going to my flat, sir. I'm not in the office anymore."

"Then go there." He replied arrogantly.

"I can't sir. I'm already in the elevator."

"But I'm in the elevator too, towards my flat. Go on. Get me my iPod."

"I locked the office sir, no one would enter it."

"Ugh, if it gets stolen it's your fault, then." he said angrily.

Hermione opened to mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the beeping of her phone—he had ended the call. Also the 'ding' of her elevator. She stepped out and walked towards her flat. Not paying attention to the man in a white, button-up shirt, wearing that familiar blazer and...

"So, Casey, do you have my iPod yet?"

---

_**A/N: Do you guys like it? Gahah. Review.**_


	2. Good Going, Draco

**a/n: im back : chapter 3 is still in the works, i'll update soon.**

**Disclaimer: i dont own hp.**

**Chapter 2: 'Good Going Draco'**

---

"What? I don't have it yet." Hermione replied, nervously, biting on her bottom lip. He merely looked at her, raising an eyebrow—as if he was expecting an answer for a question he hasn't asked yet.

"Then, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"I live here."

"Right. As if _I_ haven't heard that a million times." He replied cockily. "I expect to see my iPod tomorrow." He entered his flat then slammed the door before her. Leaving Hermione looking _and_ feeling pathetic—hair all ruffled, jaw dropped, cellphone on her right hand—it's dial tone was getting louder and louder—her bag messily draped over her left arm, a bag of dinner she had bought for herself clutched by her left hand, and in complete in utter shock that she had the misfortune of having Harry Potter, an egotistical, arrogant, belittling, insufferable, cocky bastard of an actor he is, as her neighbor _and_ boss.

She sighed heavily and fumbled with the keys in her bag, making everything she clutched in her hand—cellphone, dinner, her bag—drop to the floor, making loud noises in the hallway. But then, there were only two flats consuming this floor so the only person she'd be bothering was Harry Potter—and she'd be happy to do so.

She bent down cautiously to pick her things up, cussing under her breath.

"Clumsy little fella, aren't you, Casey?" said a voice coming from across the hall, Hermione almost didn't answer him—but she remembered that he knew her as 'Casey Barrett'. She turned her head around to see Harry Potter, standing behind her, his arms crossed and his muscular upper body leaning against his doorframe.

"Sod off." She replied angrily, picking up the bits of paper that had scattered all over the floor, sighing heavily when the side of her eye still saw his feet rooted to the ground. She was responded to by only silence, and slight chuckling from the man behind her.

"Is that the way to talk to your boss?" He asked. Crouching beside her. Hermione took in his scent—he smelled good it had a musky, peppermint feel to it—and the faint smell of coffee. She loved the smell of coffee, or mocha. It was relaxing. She felt a blush creep up to her cheeks, but then—she _loathed_ him. And she kept telling herself that, but her body proved otherwise, making her turn a light shade of pink.

"It's not working hours. And I don't care if you fire me. I could go home and get—ugh, nevermind." The thought of marriage ran through her mind, letting her shudder—looking deeply into his emerald eyes.

"Get what? Get thinner, perhaps?" He smirked. There was an empty silence that lingered above him, engulfing him into an aura of anger which was radiating off her.

Hermione glared at him and rolled her eyes. "No, maybe get boxing lessons and punch the living daylights out of—"

"That's one warning, Barrett. Acquire 3 more and you're out of the building." He warned, standing up again. Hermione heard him groan, and felt another blush creep up her cheeks. He was handsome, and his voice was pleasant—but his attitude discouraged her from those thoughts.

"You're only nice in television." She retorted angrily, finally picking her things up and slamming the door angrily behind her, feeling her prim and proper mannerisms deteriorating by the second, she felt like she needed to relax. And she did, and for once she let her feet on the coffee table. Harry seemed to ruin her life—which was already ruined years ago by her own carelessness. She wanted it to stop.

When inside, she set out her things on the table, plopping down tiredly into the couch, turning on the tv to the news channel, checking if there was anything about her—or her friends—on the news. She increased the volume, letting it echo throughout the flat as she walked to her room and changed her clothes. She smiled happily to herself as she was no longer in that tight business suit and heels. Her first day only proved that she could wear something more casual. She sat quietly on her couch, eyeing the telephone closely, since she moved here, the annoying little voice in her head told her to call home. It was her mother's birthday.

Someone knocked on her door which snapped her out of her thoughts once again. She furrowed her eyebrows in worry—dreading that it was her 'friendly' neighbor on her doorstep. She opened it quite reluctantly, as Draco hadn't acquired a door with an eyehole. She tried to rid herself of that dread that seemed to rush through her veins, thinking of insults that she can throw to that prat—

"Princess, please come back." Said the man who was standing in front of her in a black suit, his hair was white and the wrinkles in his face were starting to show as he spoke, his face etched with worry. She then realized who he was, he was her butler, Francis. She felt her eyes burn with hot, fresh, tears which she blinked away immediately. His voice was horse, his hair was messy, and his hands were clasped together in front of his chest, those large, faded blue colored eyes staring back at her.

"Hush, Francis, hush!" She warned, "_Please_, not here. And no, Francis,_ please—_go home."

"But my master and his mistress ordered me to not return home until I've found you. They've gotten news that you reside somewhere in this area." He said quietly, and sadly. Looking down.

"And when was that, Francis?"

"A month ago..."

"A month!" Hermione exclaimed lifting her hands in the air. "Mother and father haven't been kind to you! Are you okay? Where do you stay? Are you fed well?"

"Your highness, they have been kind to me through all my years in the Granger family" He paused, as he saw Hermione put her forefinger to her mouth, signaling that he lower his voice. "but—I am pleased that you care for me this much but please, your highness, young master Ronald doesn't want to be kept waiting, he has returned from his business trip of 2 years from Italy and he wants to—"

"Francis, shush. Not here!" Hermione warned once again, opening her door wider, revealing her flat. Her hands gestured towards the inside of her flat, inviting him in.

"No, your highness, I am fine out here on the corridor, I do not wish to—"

"Please, Francis, I am no longer a princess! I have refused to marry him and it's over!"

"But it is you, he wants. It is you, my highness, please. Let me bring you home and I will make you your favorite cup of tea." He said cheerfully, smiling at her.

"No, Francis, please go home. I do not wish to stay with them. Please respect my decision. Go _home_ Francis, I am okay here. Don't worry about me." Hermione replied sadly, it _was_ a tempting offer, she had missed her favorite cup of tea for ages...

"As you wish, Madam." He bowed slightly and headed towards the elevator.

Hermione closed the door behind her and sunk down to the floor, how had her parent's been cruel to such an innocent man? She only worried about him—Francis was her best friend when she was young, and his unexpected visit had only brought back fond memories of her home which she did not wish to return to. She then found herself eating dinner, munching silently on her salad. She looked up at her clock. Which was already 11. At twelve, she would leave. And not be home for at least 4 hours. Afraid that Draco brought home a girl... She shuddered at the thought. She wouldn't want to be next door as she heard them... "Ugh." She said, dropping her fork into her plate—making the clanking sound echo throughout the flat, she had never been used to the eerie silence of being alone.

She then furrowed her brows in worry, had her next-door neighbor heard her conversation? He wouldn't be _that_ daft, would he? She cleared out the mess on the dinner table, she put the utensils into the dishwasher after. She sighed heavily. Wondering whether she dye her hair back to brown—Ginny said it was a horrendous color on her. She picked up her cellphone and dialed Draco's number.

"Hello—"

"Hey ferret, I was just wondering, are you gonna bring her home? Cause I would want to stay here tonight and watch the tonight show, I've only seen an episode at work this morning and I've fallen in love with it—so, are you going to bring her home? And how long do you think _those_ things happen?" She said, giggling slightly at the silence of her best friend over the line.

"Casey?"

"Draco?"

"I'm not Draco."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Harry."

"Are you gay? What are you doing with Draco?" She asked, her fits of laughter suddenly replaced with utter dread and horror.

"I'm not with him! You earned yourself another warning, Casey."

"Oh, sorry then, wrong number." She replied sheepishly. Turns out that she accidentally pressed a few numbers.

Much to her delight, Draco said that he'd be home, without the woman. So she finally felt at ease—at least tried to, except for the unsettling feeling that she got herself fired within a day's work. She turned on the television, watching her favorite movie—Notting Hill. She turned up the volume, watching in closely as...

There was a loud banging on the door. Hermione quickly turned around to open it. And it was none other than Harry Potter, in an undershirt and shorts, in his expensive, high-quality silk bathrobe, breathing heavily. Oh how she would love to take a picture of this, even if it was expensive, it was _still_ a bathrobe—which made her giggle inwardly.

"Lower the volume down there! Someone's trying to sleep!" he complained, running his hair through his raven colored locks.

"Okay. Sorry." Hermione replied, and tried closing the door, but it didn't. His strong arms had stopped it from closing.

"So, Draco's coming home with a lady?" he asked.

"No."

"Ferret?"

"Uhm, yeah. It's complicated, actually, you know. He got that name in school. Good night." She said and closed the door quickly, afraid that he would force himself in—she'd already have enough of him.

The night had passed uneventfully, she fell asleep on the couch and Draco came home much later than that. She had another dreamless sleep and was grateful that tomorrow was a holiday.

---

"What the hell is she doing there?" Asked a vaguely familiar voice. It was distant, and cruel. Which made her jolt up from her makeshift bed.

"Huh?" She asked, as she looked at the scene before her, scratching her eyes and flattening out her pajamas. Draco was cooking breakfast as a raven haired man in his work clothes sitting on the couch across her, taking a sip of coffee.

"Sleep well, princess?" Harry asked. Hermione stiffened as he said that. _He couldn't possibly..._ "Cause you don't sleep like one. I've heard ogre's snore weaker than you."

Hermione relaxed after realizing that it was a joke. She smelled the wonderful aroma of coffee and french toast that lingered in the sitting room, making her mouth water slightly. She stretched her arms high into the air, smiling sheepishly to herself—then Harry raised an eyebrow at her, grumbling a highly audible "What the hell is she happy about?" But she didn't mind him as she walked up to her bestfriend. And kissed him on the cheek—they were accustomed to that since they were children. "Good morning, ferret."

"How many girls _are_ you sleeping with? God, you disgust me." Harry mocked at the two, taking another sip. Raising an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Hermione only glared at him.

"Oh no, she's like my sister." He explained.

"Which is even worse..." Harry started, and making an adorable ew-you-disgust-me look. Hermione wasn't blind, he was good-looking. Too bad that he was such a jackarse.

"Shut up, Potter."

"Do you guys, know each other?" Hermione asked, suddenly confused on how he ended up on her flat, gesturing towards the two men.

"That was smart." Snorted Harry who merely looked into the newspaper, "Hey! I'm on the entertainment section again."

"Erm, Harry's my bestfriend, Her—Casey." Draco told her, ignoring his incredibly cocky—(in Hermione's opinion)—'bestfriend'

"Oh, alright. Better get going then..." Hermione started, walking towards the shower. "I think I'll pay Ginny a visit."

"But you can't—she's at—" Draco warned, his spatula pointed at her, turning a shade of bright crimson red.

"Hey guys. Good Morning." Ginny emerged from Draco's bedroom, in Draco's 'Yankee's shirt and ruffled hair. She yawned loudly, stretching her arms, smiling sheepishly at the two. She took a mug of coffee and sat down beside Harry. She giggled at Hermione, who had her jaw dropped and her bewildered expression made her look... funny.

"Ginny?!" Hermione screamed, "What in God's sake happened here?! Don't tell me, I slept through that!" Hermione gestured towards Draco and Ginny, who were looking at her in disbelief...and shock. Yeah, mostly shock.

"Bingo, she finally gets something right this time." Snapped Harry, who looked like he enjoyed the spur of the moment, smiling childishly to everyone.

"Will you _please_ shut your—"

"Want another warning, Casey?" Harry asked, his finger in the air, waving it side-to-side. Hermione huffed down on the couch angrily. "Didn't think so." He added, he seemed to enjoy her agony.

---

Harry went to his flat after a few minutes of silence, leaving the 3 bestfriends alone. There was a thick air hovering above them. Hermione tensed up as she recounted what happened last night. She didn't like the awkwardness of the moment, seeing as she had to witness all that, in front of Harry Potter. She put her head in her hands,

massaging her temples. "Francis visited last night..." she started.

"What?!" Bellowed the two.

"He found me and asked me to come home. Mom and dad told him to never return until he's brought me back with him. It's been a month! A month!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, her tears threatening to fall. "I don't even know if he's fed well, or if he's had any sleep—"

"Don't worry, dear. Francis can handle himself." Ginny said, leaning on the countertop, as Draco's arms slithered around her waist.

"I just miss everybody. I miss Luna, Ronald, not until recently, you." She told Ginny. "I miss you all."

"We know, honey. But... you made a choice, and your friends respect that. If you want you could give them a call, but it will be way, way, risky. Call someone you trust. But not right now, perhaps in the future. Okay?" she suggested, taking a seat beside Hermione.

"I don't get it, why couldn't Fred or George do this instead of Ronald? By the way, Ginny, how are they?"

"Fred's gone, Hermione. He's gone."

"What d-do you mean g-gone?"

"He was rushed to the hospital and—"

"No, no. NO! That can't be! Fred's always good at sports! He's healthy!" Hermione exclaimed, letting her tears fall freely from her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to say _was_. It was too difficult for her. "How come nobody told me?!"

"You were gone, for two years! I was surprised myself the day that Hermione Granger entered my office, asking for a job!"

"Oh Ginny, Draco. I'm so sorry." She said, engulfing the two in a giant hug, crying.

---

Hermione sat behind her desk, in Ginny's office, taking calls for Harry, putting them on post-its. She wan an obsessive compulsive, so she put the important calls of red ones, not-so important calls on yellow ones, and calls that aren't important at all on green ones. He seemed to like the system and told Hermione that family goes to the green category. Which made Hermione uneasy. _Cruel little prat._ Since the shock she had received this morning, she devoted her holiday to working. Maybe get her mind off Fred... and Francis... and—_blast it, I'm doing it again._

Work was supposed to keep her busy, instead she just found herself dozing off even more, since Harry wasn't there, there wasn't much that she could do. But wait—since _when_ did her entire life revolve around him? She just went to _work_—which already revolved around him—to get rid of her problems! Perhaps she should call home.

Perhaps.

Hermione picked up the phone and dialed George's number. She shifted nervously in her seat, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Hello?" asked a dull voice.

"George?" Hermione asked, she could feel her eyes burn with hot, fresh tears at how his voice was no longer cheerful, or bouncy.

"Yeah, who's this?"

"H-hermione..." She stuttered, unsure whether she bring down the phone or not.

"Hermione? Is it you?"

"George, please don't tell anyone about me calling you. I'm sorry. Really sorry for Fred. I've only heard now and—"

"Stop, Hermione."

"George? Please, I'm sorry. If I've heard sooner, I would've jumped on to the next plane back to you guys." She felt her tears drop from her eyes, making damp spots on her jeans.

"I—It's hard, to explain. You know."

"What's hard?"

"He died a few weeks after you left."

"How come nobody told me?"

"We couldn't find you."

"I'm sorry, George. Really, is there any way that I can make it up to you?"

"Come home, then. Ron's depressed." She heard him say, a plethora of memories of her life she had abandoned too long ago had suddenly rushed through her head, making her drop her phone. She picked it up quickly, ridding the thoughts on her mind.

"You know I can't do that!"

"Hermione, please, stop crying."

"I'm not crying!" She said, frustrated. She then realized that her words were muffled by her sobs. She grabbed her handkerchief and wiped her tears away, sniffing. "I'm not crying..." she repeated weakly.

"Please, just—come home."

"No, I can't do that. Goodbye George, I'm sorry, really, for Fred. I lost a big brother, as well. Please, don't tell anyone I called. Good day." She put the phone back to the receiver. She got up, and picked up her things. She wanted to go home. She asked Miranda to take Harry's calls and then she left.

While walking down the corridor, she heard someone calling her.

"Casey! Oy! Casey!"

"What do you want?"

"Coffee?"

"No, Harry. I'm going home. Get your own coffee."

"Is there something wrong?" Harry asked.

"Everything's wrong. Not like you'd care. I'm leaving. It's a holiday, anyway." She replied and got inside the elevator, ignoring the threats that were being sent to her.

---

Hermione walked to her flat. Now that she was standing in front of her door which was locked—it was weird because Draco and Ginny stayed home—and had a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob...

"Oh God." Hermione told herself, "No, no, no, no. They didn't—"

She sat on the floor, waiting for that to be over—which obviously won't for a few hours, she fiddled with her bracelet. Then took a look at the soccer ball charm that hung loosely on it. _Fred_. She fell into a pool of black...

_Hermione dreamt of one of her most fond moments of Fred. Which made her mouth curve upwards into a grin._

_"Hermione—here. Let's just say a token from a prince._ _Or brother-in-law." Fred said to her, nudging her on the ribs. Hermione took the charm gladly and engulfed him into a giant hug. "Happy Birthday, dear." He said quietly and received a kiss on the cheek from his future sister._

_Future sister, he liked the sound of that._

_"Thank you so much, Fred." She replied and looked around the hall. The Weasleys were staring at her happily, smiles were wide. And beaming back at her. Hermione smiled. This was one of her favorite memories._

_"Why did you leave, Hermione? Everyone needed you." Asked Molly Weasley. All the other Weasleys stared at her and nodded in agreement. "What?" Hermione thought, "That didn't happen..."_

_"I... I..." she stuttered, letting a tear fall down her cheek. "FRED! Where are you going?" She called to Fred, who was walking away._

_"I'm leaving you. Like what you did to me on my last days here." He smiled at her deviously, then was slowly disappearing from her sight._

_"No! Fred! I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!"_

_"Come home..." The Weasleys told her, and along came her parents._

"NO!" Hermione screamed, getting up from her sleep. She looked up at the time. She had fallen asleep for 10 minutes.

"Casey!" Harry appeared, "What the hell are you doing out here?" He then eyed the door which was locked, and had a "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob and smiled smugly to himself. "Nice."

"You are disgusting, what's so _nice—_ugh." She groaned as she heard something like a loud thump, by the wall, Harry only smiled to himself even wider. "Good going, Draco." He grinned at the door.

"Ew." Hermione said, standing up, turning around. "I think I'll go in."

"No!" Harry said, gasping her arm. They looked at each other for a millisecond as they felt electricity surge through their skin. Time refused to move at that point, leaving Hermione breathless, turning a bright shade of pink. Harry pretended that he didn't notice—but he did feel the electricity that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "You shouldn't. Come on, Casey, you'll just ruin the fun."

"But I just wanna go to my room and—Oh it's nothing." She whined, sinking back down to the floor. "Leave me alone, please?"

"Come on, go inside. I can't let you wait outside." He sighed heavily. Opening the door to his flat. She had never looked _this_ troubled. There was a little voice in his head telling him that it was his fault that she was sitting on the floor, crying.

_His fault, or maybe that Fred boy... He heard her shout his name throughout the hallway._

"Since when did you care?" Hermione asked, sniffing. Her face was drained of all color, the dream had frightened her—too much.

He only offered his hand to her, raising an eyebrow. She groaned, signaling that Harry had won this argument. She took his hand and stood up, trying her best to convince herself that it was static. Nothing else.

"Nice flat you have here." Hermione said, looking around at the flat which was twice as big as Draco's.

Harry took a bite of his apple, "Thanks, too expensive for you, anyway." He smirked as he saw through the corner of his eye that Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes. It is." She said sarcastically. Plopping down on the arm chair, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, don't contaminate anything. I'm off to take a shower. The interview a while ago was tiring." He said harshly and walked off to the bathroom. Hermione stayed frozen in her seat. Thinking about Fred... and the dream. Her phone was suddenly ringing, she bent to accept the call.

"Hermione, I'm sorry."

"What? George? What happened?" She asked, dropped the phone, then went outside the flat, walking towards the corridor.

Only to see 3 people in black suits charging for her.

---

**A/N:: tee hee hee **

**Review, and I'll give you a virtual muffin, heck, I'd give you all virtual candy for reading my fic. **

**Theghostchic**


	3. Surprise, Surprise

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! sorry if there are typographical errors and the like. I was too excited to put this chapter up so I didn't have the time to go over it again. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

**Chapter 3: Surprise, Surprise.**

---

"Let me go!" Hermione cried as they grasped her arms. "GET OFF!"

"Get off!" She warned, trying to fend for herself. "LET ME—oomph" She managed to slip off their grip and falling hard on the tiled floor.

"Just cooperate with us. We don't want this to happen." Said one man calmly, approaching her cautiously, with one arm out as she started to back off, feeling her eyes stinging with fresh, hot tears which she prevented by gritting her teeth.

"I'll call the police, seriously. You can't be doing this. This'll get you lot arrested!" She threatened, running down the corridor, turning right towards the fire exit, fumbling with the phone in her pocket. Her feet rooted to the ground. _She dropped her phone in Harry's flat._ She sighed angrily and found refuge in a broom closet. She removed her jacket and threw it to the flight of stairs in front of her, somehow misleading them—if they ever passed here.

Hermione could hear nothing at first—for the first 15 minutes, as her breathing quickened due to anxiety, she found it hard to stay hidden. There was heavy tension in the air, she shifted her weight from one leg to another, making wood in the closet creak and some mops move. There was an eerie silence that surrounded her, making her shudder and cringe in worry. She felt startled as she heard footsteps descending from the stairs, getting louder and louder, and when she felt a strong grip on the handle of the closet. She felt her legs go weak and wobbly, her face getting drained of all color—bracing herself, positioning her fists in front of her. _Knee to the groin, Hermione. Knee to the groin. Then fist to the face. Oh—this is pathetic, I should've taken up fencing and self-defense back home._

The door opened, revealing a bright light that made her eyes squint. And in front of her, she saw a raven colored man, his skin pale and droplets of sweat rolling down his face. His hair was standing in every possible angle and he smiled at her with bated breath. Hermione felt her eyes well up and she found herself flinging her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He slowly wrapped his arms around her awkwardly, looking elsewhere. "They're gone." He said calmly, "I called the security once I heard what was happening and got into a little..." He let the sentence drop, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his palm still the awkward position he had been dreading. "Care to explain what that was all about? Casey?" He soothed.

Hermione's grasp loosened at the sound of her 'fake' name, and soon her arms were crossed over her chest. She wiped away her tears slowly, and then shook her head. "I can't tell you."

"I just saved you from whatever that was! At least _you_ need to tell me this." His temper rose, and he groaned loudly, and ran his fingers through his hair.

She flushed a bright pink color, yet she didn't know why. She turned around to conceal it, suddenly feeling embarrassed of how much trouble she'd cost him. She looked at his red shirt, with was now wet with her tears. She breathed deeply, trying to go back to his senses. His hair was damp which made him look like he came from a photo shoot, and it didn't help her in concentrating and collecting her thoughts, either—as well as the his musky scent that circulated the air, making her senses tingle. But what stunned her, were his eyes. They were... _dim, _and serious. She suddenly snapped back into reality to see him looking at her expectantly.

"Well?" He pressed.

"I can't tell you that..."

"Fine then. At least do this for me—don't stay out of my sight. If not mine, then don't stay out of Draco's sight, or Mitch's—my bodyguard. Okay? Is that a deal? Cause those men are dangerous. They look like they won't give up." He asked—or ordered. His lip was slightly bleeding, but he still looked incredibly handsome, which led her breathless.

"Okay... thanks." She said in a serious tone, "We should disturb Draco and Ginny now—I don't care what we're doing. Come on." She invited, as she went up the stairs and he followed behind her.

Hermione saw through the corner of her eye that his lips were slightly curved by the end, releasing a low chuckle.

_Well,_ she thought, _That doesn't happen everyday._

Turns out that Draco and Ginny weren't doing what Harry and Hermione thought they were doing. They didn't press any further since there was a more important matter at hand. Everyone agreed to keep a close watch on Hermione—Casey, that is—and help her through this, which was surprisingly Harry's idea. Then they decided to hire a bodyguard. Then, 10 minutes after the discussion, Hermione felt her heart drop. He returned to his means self again. Slightly nicer, but then—he was still the man who she loathed.

---

"Ugh, black coffee is horrendous!" Harry stated, dropping his coffee in the trashcan. "I told you to get me the normal kind."

"_You_ asked for black!" Hermione argued, sitting down tiredly on the couch.

"Must you need another warning to get things right? Honestly Casey, what am I to do with you?" He said seriously his British accent resurfacing—he was asked to lose it a few years ago in his first movie. But she was oblivious to the hint of amusement in his voice. His cellphone rang, and she couldn't conceal the smirk that was forming on her face.

"O-oh. Right. So, erm, i-it's a date then?" He stuttered, and she pressed her lips tightly, refusing to laugh out loud. He stuttered his goodbyes and brought down the phone. He looked at her weirdly, as she was staring at him amusingly, and ran his hands through his hair—"What?" He asked, leaning on his table.

"You are such a loser with girls!" She laughed. Picking up her purse and laughing through the glass doors on her way out before he could respond. She half-dreaded his warnings.

Mitch followed her everyday, and they've formed a special bond. She talks to him and he listens, not saying a word, he's exactly like Crookshanks at home—minus the hairy orange hair and annoying meowing. She laughed at the image of her lean, muscular, blond, bodyguard meowing at her. Mitch didn't look like one at all, he dressed casually—right now he was wearing a cap, sunglasses, a black hoodie, jeans and sneakers, to be inconspicuous. He looked nothing like a bodyguard, he was muscular but he looked like a normal 29 year-old, which was surprisingly young.

"Is Harry a nice person?" She asked out of the blue, "Because sometimes I think that it's impossible."

Mitch smiled, "I thought so, either. But yes, he is nice once you know him."

"And when does he let you know him?" She retorted, ordering for a different coffee this time. She tapped her feet on the tiles and looked up at him. Expecting an answer.

"Soon enough. I guess. I've been his bodyguard for...5 years, no wait." He started counting with his fingers, "Since he's 23 right now, I've been at his service for 6 years."

"Woah, so 6 years with him and he finally gets to say 'hi' to me. That's great." She said sarcastically, leaving a tip in the tip box and walking with him securely behind her. "My feet hurt." She whined, "Damn Pott—oh, hey, here's your coffee, sir." She flushed a bright pink color and gave it to him, as she didn't notice him walking beside her. Hermione let out a low whistle—that was close.

"That's odd." He began, "My feet don't hurt at all. I've been comfy in my trailer all day and I decided to drop by. I see that you and Mitch are being..." He paused as he searched for a word. "Pleasant around each other."

"Yes. We talk, we're friends. Ever heard of that word?" She retorted. He smirked.

"Oh Barrett, what am I _really_ going to do with you?" He asked innocently.

"Give me my paycheck! It was due a week." She complained.

"I don't want to." He said simply.

"Ugh." She whined, turning to the elevator. "I'm going home."

"Fine. Hold on—wait, I'll go with you. The restaurant is a few blocks from the flat." He suggested. Everyone seemed to nod in agreement, except for Hermione.

They walked out of the building with paparazzi bombarding them, shouting questions—some being "Are you together?", "Who's the girl?", "Where are you going?". They ignored it, but Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes at how there was no privacy at all. She squinted her eyes at the flashes of light, which were practically blinding. Harry put his hands over his head for protection, his other arm around her protectively and pushed her towards the car in front of them, ignoring more absurd remarks and speculations on their way. They entered the car—fast, and before she knew it, she heard Harry cussing under his breath. "That'll be in the papers tomorrow, bloody idiots."

"What do you mean?" She asked, but was only responded with silence.

---

**Harry Potter has left the building—with a girl?**

**By: Rita Skeeter**

**Harry Potter, 23, world renown and one of the most successful actors in the business was seen exiting his office building with his arm protectively wrapped around a girl—she is yet to be identified, but a witness says that she works with him. We interviewed him the other day and he only mentioned that "they were just friends". We've heard all that before, could it be that he and his on and off again girlfriend, Cho Chang, are off for good? And this woman is his new squeeze?**

**Cho Chang is utterly devastated. We received a call from her representative this morning and... (cont. on page 7)**

"Goddamn it." Harry said, his jaw dropped from shock. He ran to his Draco's flat, scaring everyone as he slammed the door open.

"Bloody writers!" He shouted, and threw the paper to the middle of the table that Draco, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting on, making a glass of orange juice pour all over Hermione's waffles, she looked up at him worriedly, and he felt his heart drop. "Just... Just read it." He said quietly, unsure whether to send glares at 'Casey' for this. He sat down on the couch. "Cho just broke up with me." He muttered, bending his head in defeat. "Entertainment Weekly has just asked me to go to their set for an interview, I've got red carpet later and everyone will bombard me like this—not to mention that my co-star is my ex-girlfriend. Uggh." He complained, his head in his hands.

The three looked at each other, blown away with what just happened.

"Harry..." She began, not realizing that she had addressed him in his first name, "erm, I'm—"

"Don't say you're sorry. It's not your fault." He said sternly. "It's those bloody paparazzi."

"I'm going to say sorry... to them, at least." She pressed, getting up from her seat. But she felt a strong grip around her wrist, pulling her back down to the couch.

"Are you _that_ naive? You just can't say sorry! There are press conferences, interviews, articles—"

"So what are we gonna do?" She said, turning into a bright pink color as she thought of how wonderful "we" sounded. She dismissed the thought almost immediately.

"Leave it to me." He sighed, "This doesn't mean that you don't need protection. Just act as if it never happened, I'll handle it. Don't worry, Casey."

He closed the door behind him, and Hermione stared at Draco and Ginny, who were quietly eating their breakfast, who inconveniently heard the whole thing.

"He keeps on surprising me." Hermione said quietly.

---

**A/N: not one of my best chapters, but please review, nonetheless. thanks a lot for visiting my story. Next chapter will be up soon.**


	4. We're Just Friends

**A/N: Okay, I'm not familiar with the whole 'show business' thing. Please excuse the typographical errors and such—if there are. **

**Behold! The next chapter for Run Away Princess!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP**

**Chapter 4: "We're Just Friends"**

---

Harry sat in his dresser, his stylist was doing his hair and make-up—he forced him to only put powder, or something like that since he wasn't an expert in those things. The hair and make-up took about an hour. Harry was bored to death, completely restless and he kept on fidgeting due to nervousness of confronting Cho, reporters, interviewers and the like on the red carpet. They would ask about what his role was in "Downhill" but still—he knew that the first question would always be about Casey.

After an excruciating hour and a half, he was finally ready. He was wearing a white button up shirt and a blue sweater over it. He wore jeans, and a pair of converse shoes that he hadn't used in a while. He topped it all of with a blazer over it—giving a smart casual feel. He breathed in deeply as he entered his limo. Scared for himself—and Casey—for what was about to happen. Slowly, the actors entered the car one by one, each of them chattering eagerly as they were nearing the premiere venue.

A certain woman, one year older than him, who had a petite frame, her silky, black hair tied up neatly into a bun with her bangs falling directly over her eyes. She glared at him, sending chills up his spine. She took a seat beside him—since there was none left.

"It would be advisable if you let me know that you broke up with me _before_ the press." She hissed.

"I didn't break up with you! She was just an acquaintance." He whispered into her ear.

She didn't say a word to him during the whole ride. He sighed—he had actually expected this. Creepy.

The car came to a stop, and one by one, the actors exited the vehicle towards the crowd. He followed suit, and he smiled at all the fans, giving autographs and taking pictures with them. One fan even asked him to marry her—and he shuddered at the thought of it. He only smiled at her nervously and gave a quick hug.

"So, Harry, how was the movie? Can you tell us a little more about your character?" asked an interviewer who introduced herself as Luna Lovegood.

"Erm, I play Jonathan Flame. He's uhm—a troubled teenager, who fell victim to drugs and alcohol, then erm, his parents die and he's sort of—erm, alone. And a girl, Martha Abshire—who is played by Cho Chang—saves him. It's a really interesting movie. We had fun erm, filming the movie." He stuttered, he always had a hard time at the red carpet, his mind was swirling at the flashes from the cameras that were pointed at him and too many things in his mind prevented him from thinking properly.

"Oh, so, what do you have planned for you after the movie?" She asked.

"Well, erm, I'm working on a different movie right now, they just sent the scripts and the casting should start next week, I think." He replied, running his hands nervously through his hair. Luna turned to her camera, talking.

"So that's Harry Potter, playing Jonathan Flame in Seamus Finnigan's new movie—Downhill." She announced, then turned to Harry, shaking his hand. "Thank you so much Harry. Hope to see you again."

"Right, pleasure." He said, smiling at her.

After 10 seconds, suddenly Rita Skeeter appeared beside him, thrusting a mike in his direction.

"Who's that dazzling woman you were with yesterday?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're friends." He lied, since he wasn't sure if they were friends or not, he'd take the risk. "She rode with me since she didn't have a ride."

"So, are you together?" Rita asked, resting one of her hands on his shoulder.

"Erm, no." Harry replied nervously.

"Yes, we've broken up. I know, but, I won't let him affect me in my work." He heard someone say from a distance, and his body went cold. Cho was spreading that they were broken up. He sighed—he hated it when Cho was like that.

"We're just friends." He insisted to Rita. Smiling like he never heard Cho.

---

Harry sat tiredly on his bed, and lied down. He stifled a yawn, and he felt dizzy.

He must've said the phrase "We're just friends." For a thousand times today.

We're they really friends?

"Good evening James." He said politely into the phone that rang noisily beside him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Good evening, Harry. Your mother told me that you have been rude to her." James accused.

"I've always been rude to Penelope." Harry reasoned, his mother died a few years ago, and his father remarried a girl who was after their money.

"I don't like your attitude, young man."

"I don't like _her_ attitude. She keeps dragging me off to charity work for the weird chance that _she_ will somehow be branded the 'Worlds Nicest Woman'. I already donated 200,000 dollars to that foundation already. I was intending on doing the cancer one but she had to but in."

"Your mother is the Worlds Nices—"

"She's not my mother!" He retorted, "_My_ mother was the woman who died 5 years ago! She's dead. And I hate Penelope. Please James, hang up the phone." He grumbled.

"I have received news that the Grangers have pinpointed their lost heiress—or princess, if she pushes through with the marriage with Ronald. He's a nice man." He informed him, ignoring Harry's outburst. "They're planning to bring her home within a few months. You still have a chance, Harry."

"I'm not into royalty, just because I happened to be an eligible bachelor 7 years ago, doesn't mean that I'm completely in love with the custom, it was just one masquerade ball. I abandoned the thought years ago. Let the Weasley take her."

"You don't understand—the riches, and the power. It would do the Potter fortune a good deal!"

"So you're asking me to marry her for the money? Dad—"

"I told you not to call me dad, I know of no such son of mine who abandoned his family to start chasing his dreams." He snapped.

"That's rich." He retorted. "I won't marry her, you can handle yourself." He said to him, then snapped the phone shut.

He put his head in his hands—_so what if they found the lost princess? I don't care. I don't want to marry her. I hate the idea of arranged marriages, anyway. Ronald can have her, for all I care._

---

"How was the red carpet?" Draco implored, taking a sip from his orange juice. Ginny and Hermione were in the living room, engrossed in the soap opera they recently got addicted to.

"Dreadful." Harry replied, scratching his eyes. "I just came home from the after party a few hours ago. I can't believe I'm having another audition today."

"She was worried, last night, actually. They saw you on TV. Too bad I didn't see it." He chuckled, taking a bite from his breakfast. Harry stared at him.

"Who was worried? Ginny?" He asked.

"Her—Casey." He answered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "She was worried, thinking that she got you into trouble and all."

"Nah, she's okay." Harry said, trying to sound nonchalant. "She puts up with me."

"Who would?" Draco snorted, taking another sip from his drink.

"You, Ginny... And Casey was just recently added to the list. I don't act arrogant to _everyone_ you know. Just to a fair few."

"I've never seen you so arrogant though. Only now—to Casey. Is there like, a weird vibe that caused you to be more cruel than you usually are?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"_You_ should've seen her on her first day!" He exclaimed, and then made a face. Soon the two were laughing.

"Why are you guys laughing?" Emerged Hermione from the living room, taking a seat to eat her breakfast, wiping tears from her eyes. "Rodolfo left Maria, because Maria was carrying Gustave's baby. Gustave is Rodolfo's long lost brother for Christ's sake! Then Isabella fell in love with Maria's half-brother. Who was actually Rodolfo's distant cousin. Everything's so messed up. Plus Isabella eloped with Rodolfo—while he was in a coma! A coma!" her eyes were puffy, she was still in her pajamas. She's gotten used to Harry's presence, the four practically lived together.

"Did I feature in that?" Harry asked, he pressed his lips tightly together, stifling his laughter. _Women and their soaps._

"I think you were the homeless kid." Hermione added, giggling.

A low chuckled escaped his lips. "Ooooh. So I was in _that_ one. Oh yeah, Mandy's gonna die."

"It's Maria. Wait—she's really gonna die?"

"Yeah, then an earthquake will come to kill them all, after they're invaded by aliens." Draco added. The two boys burst into fits of laughter.

"Wait—I'm going to tell Ginny!" Hermione cried, dropping her utensils and running off to the living room. They laughed even harder.

"Draco, I am so going to kill you!" Shouted a voice from the living room, Ginny came in not too long after that. Then the laughter died down "I can't believe you spoiled the whole damn thing!"

"Are you two deranged? We really didn't know that it would happen, come on—Spanish Soap Opera, earthquakes and aliens? They don't fit at all! We didn't know that it'd happen!" Draco said frantically at his girlfriend's behavior.

"Well—it—it did!" She cried, sniffing loudly, after blowing her nose into a piece of tissue.

---

"No! We're just friends!" Hermione told her officemates. "Honestly—you guys seriously can't think that we're together? I loathe him!"

"Hey Casey." Harry greeted, emerging from his office door. "Please get me a coffee, thanks. Black—this time."

"Sure?" She asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Cause Mitch here will—"

"Yes. Black, we're having our first shooting and it'll most likely take 8 hours, can you stay until then? Thanks." He smiled, they both laughed. His attitude has changed over the days, and it was starting to freak her out.

"You _loathe_ him, eh?" Carrie asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest.

---

"Just get in the car, Casey." Harry ordered her.

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" he pressed, opening the door.

"Won't you be afraid of the press release thing?" She asked, "I can take a cab home."

"No you won't. I don't care of what they say. Just go in the car." He said sternly. "Go on." But she didn't move a muscle.

"Get in the damn—"

"Fine." She huffed, entering the car. He smiled in disbelief.

"I don't get you. There are some people out there who would want to enter a car with me and Mitch and _you _of all people refuse to." He complained. A smirk graced his lips.

She snorted. "Actually, we're four in this car, Mitch, me, you, and your ego."

"The other Harry says thank you for noticing him." He replied, he received a playful punch on his arm. "Ouch. I was just playing along."

"That's for the TV show you ruined." She mock-scowled, staring at his emerald green eyes. Then they both burst into nervous laughs.

"So, uhm—" He was speechless, her eyes were, beautiful. Seconds of time concealed in history. "Erm. I, uh."

"Are you okay?" She asked, pressing her warm hands against his neck and forehead. He felt jolts of electricity run through his veins.

_"Are you okay?" The lady asked, putting her warm hand over his in concern "Tell me your name." She suggested._

_"I can't. Those are the rules, remember?" Harry replied._

_"Oh yes. Rules. I hate rules." She said sadly. _

_"And parents. Don't forget about controlling parents who use you for money." He added. Smiling at her._

_"Yes. Them too." She said happily, the room was empty now. And then she kissed him on the cheek. "Good bye, the ball is about to end."_

_"Goodbye." He said quietly, watching her dainty movements towards the door. Completely stricken._

It all happened so fast—like an involuntary action. He grasped her hands and set it down. Moving slightly away from her.

"I'm fine." He said through gritted teeth. She reminded him of the woman 7 years ago. The woman he met in the masquerade ball.

"Oh. Sorry." She apologized, moving towards the edge of her seat, putting as much distance between them. She looked out the window, and watched the moon. Was he watching the same moon? She was reminded of the man she had met 7 years ago in a masquerade ball. What had happened to him?—she didn't know.

"Anyway, Casey. I was erm, thinking if you would go with me to dinner... Since Malfoy and Ginny are out and—"

"I can cook for myself." She said quietly, "Just because I was almost kidnapped, doesn't mean that you have to go to dinner with me. I'm _fine._"

He felt his heart drop for some unknown reason. "Okay then." he said stubbornly.

Hermione returned to her flat, and walked inside. She walked over to her stove, after taking out chicken to fry. She turned the knob, but the fire wouldn't show up.

She turned it again. And there still wasn't any fire.

She sighed.

---

_Knock knock._

"What brings you here, Barrett?" He asked, smirking. It was highly unusual for Hermione to show up on his doorstep.

"The stove won't work. I was wondering if I could cook here and then I'll stop bothering you." She pleaded.

"Better yet—let me take you to dinner." He said, smiling his smile that usually took Hermione's breath away. She sighed—signaling his victory.

He brought her to a high-class restaurant next to their building, the restaurant was practically made up of gold and marble. She felt her stomach do little summersaults, this was way too expensive. She'd probably spend all her life's work just for a piece of bread in this place. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of different scents of food all mixed together. There were a few people inside, and she suddenly felt embarrassed—showing up in this restaurant in only jeans. He intertwined his fingers with hers, pulling her through the crowd outside the restaurant—probably the crowd that stalked them since they left the building, shouting insults at Hermione occasionally. He ignored the cameras pointed at them.

She felt shivers up her spine that exact moment. That exact moment their hands fit together. She dismissed the thought. _He's an arrogant, insufferable, egotistic man who smiles at your suffering._

"Why did you bring me here again?" She sighed, whining.

"I just wanted to see your face. You looked funny when I brought you here. God, I wish I had a camera. Your mouth was open and—" He teased.

"Gee. Thanks." She rolled her eyes, as he smiled mischievously at her. _He's an arrogant, insufferable, egotistic man who smiles at your suffering. _She repeated the line over and over again in her head. It already seemed like it was her mantra.

"Okay. Now that you've seen my face." She began, "Let's go now."

"No thanks." He said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I want to see your face when all this is over."

"To speed up the process, I'll show you what my face would've been after this." She said. And she made a face.

"How do you know that I intend to make you angry? What if it's the complete opposite?" He asked quizzically.

"What—"

"You'll see, soon. Casey." He smiled. Hermione looked at his face, looking for any hint that read 'public humiliation' or such. But his expression was unreadable.

---

**A/N: Too cliffie-ish? Hee hee hee. Anyway, thanks a lot for checking out my story. , next chapter is already in the works. Please, please, review:D Sorry for making James be the bad guy it was painful for me. Lol... Don't worry. He'll come around sometime. I enjoyed writing this. Esp. The Soap opera thing.**

**Note: Harry didn't ask 'Casey' out because of his father's advice. He doesn't know that 'Casey' is the princess.**


	5. Happy Birthday

**A/N: Here's chapter 5:D Credits are at the bottom, as well as my playlist while I worked on this chapter I felt like sharing it with you all**

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP**

**Chapter 5: Happy Birthday**

---

She's goes by Casey Barrett.

Richard Granger was pacing his office. He felt triumphant. _I have finally found my daughter!_ He rejoiced in his head. _Finally. Thanks to that man, George Weasley, he gave me a jump start, telling me about the call from Hermione. This is wonderful._

But she somehow managed to slip from his grip once again.

It took him years to find her, she managed to run away from him, and the army of body guards surrounding her. It was always a mystery on how she snuck out unnoticed. His daughter, his beloved daughter will finally be home—along with part of the Weasley fortune—he felt a huge smile creep up his face. The American newspaper was finally shipped to his house. And to his surprise, she was with the Potter boy.

The Potter boy. The son of that blasted James Potter.

James managed to get the promotion meant for _him_. And now he's trying to get his daughter.

That'll never happen.

So right now, he was planning to get her back. Stealth. Yes. Stealth is an important factor.

It would take him at least a month or two to get rid of the Potter boy, as well as retrieve his daughter and somehow convince her to go home—force will be used, if needed.

Stealth is a must.

---

"Where are you taking me?" Hermione asked in a barely audible whisper, as he held her hand, running through a construction site, they were glad that they were no longer gaining stares from every direction. He didn't answer her, but he just kept running, grasping her hand. "I demand that you tell me where you're taking me!" She ordered, feeling tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

Harry stopped, making Hermione hit his back hard from the impact.

"Harry where—Wow." She was standing in front of a humongous bookstore, empty, too. "What are we doing here?" She asked quietly.

"Don't tell me that you've forgotten your birthday." He whispered to her, as they both stared on the huge 3-floor bookstore in front of them. "I had them open 3 days early for you. And you can get as much as you want."

"My birthday's tomorrow." She said angrily.

"It's 12 o'clock." He retorted.

She giggled nervously. "Oh."

"Go on, I know you want to. It's like bringing a kid to a candy store. You're the kid, and that's the candy store." He said to her, smiling.

"Can I?" She asked sheepishly, she didn't await an answer as she dashed off inside the store, smiling widely to herself.

The bookstore was huge. It had 3 floors, and it had every book she wanted. The book cases were made of ebony, and the carpeted floors were a dashing color of green. She looked up, to see a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There was a multi-story window with a wonderful view of New York. She felt like crying, and at some point she wanted to live in it, eternally reading, and gaining more knowledge. Perhaps she could find a book on how to start restraining orders... for those men in suits anyway.

It took her 3 hours, 3 very excruciating hours on Harry's part. He spent those three hours falling asleep in the children's corner, cuddled up in a ball on top of a humongous bean bag—thinking that Hermione wouldn't go there—and fighting the urge to leave her.

"Thanks." She told him, she was extremely pale, and she had a few strands of hair out of place. He was carrying two bags full of books for her.

"Happy Birthday, Casey." He said quietly. Ignoring the fierce hug that she engulfed him in. Her body went limp, and he dropped the bags to the floor.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, finally breaking free from her grasp then set her on the ground, he poked her face. "Pssh. Asleep." He muttered to himself. "Casey, what am I really going to do with you?" He sighed, and then he decided to carry her, surprised that she was actually light, he set her inside the car, then picked up the heavy bags of books and placed them in the car trunk. He told the driver to bring them home. He observed her while she slept, her mouth was slightly open, and her hair was messy, she looked, somewhat _adorable_, he shook his head, trying to shake off his thoughts. He looked over his seat, and then found a Polaroid camera.

He smiled mischievously then pointed it to her face.

"I told you that I wanted to see your face." He said darkly.

---

"HARRY JAMES POTTER YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!" Draco and Ginny jumped at Hermione's frantic screams, making Ginny's orange juice pour down her shirt. They rolled their eyes. And they continued on with breakfast as if they hadn't heard her.

Hermione emerged from her room, with drawings on her face. She had a mustache, glasses, pimples and a beard. She looked like she came from a daycare center and somehow fell asleep there—that's dangerous. "Look at what that _git_ did to me!" She cried, staring at the mirror in horror.

"Happy Birthday!" Draco and Ginny yelled, laughing loudly at her. "You should go to work like that." Ginny suggested, trying hard to keep a serious expression.

"Very mature, kids. Very mature." She remarked, her words drenched in sarcasm, she sat down on the breakfast table, silently.

"You're calling us immature?" Draco said, shocked. "Well—who's the one crying about having little drawings on her face?"

Ginny batted her eyebrows at her, laughing loudly as she received a scowl.

"I can't go to work!" She complained. "That insufferable man you call friend is such a—"

"You rang?" He entered the flat, taking a seat on the breakfast table, ignoring the glares that Hermione sent him. "Good morning Casey." He said, and pressed his lips together. Trying to stifle his laugh.

He stared at her, searching her face for something. "Did you change your hair?" He asked innocently. Receiving scowls from her.

"Okay—" He said, finally giving in to laughter, "You—Look—Funny." He said in between his laughs. "I'm going to take a picture." He held up his Polaroid camera and took a snapshot of Hermione. She crossed her arms over her chest, and huffed.

"Give me the damn picture, Potter." She threatened. "Give. Me. The. Damn. Picture."

"No." He teased, smirking. "What are you gonna do? Huh? If I don't feel like giving it?"

Harry gasped in pain as he saw Hermione pour her glass of coffee all over his shirt. She got up, and headed towards her room. The three looked at each other, all of their jaws dropped. He felt like his skin was burning.

"Happy Birthday." He mumbled to no one in particular, he was unsure whether she'd hear it, he was bewildered.

Enchanted.

---

The marks on her face were gone after a cold shower. She smiled happily to herself since Harry gave her a day off—she smiled happily to herself when she recounted the incident of pouring hot coffee over his too expensive shirt. She wanted to do so much today, probably go to the grocery and do some errands, or take a dip in the pool, or maybe even read more books. She could stay in and use her laptop, or probably watch television.

She dressed up, deciding that she'd stay in and enjoy a good movie.

To her surprise, someone she didn't want to see was sitting in front of the TV engrossed in a talk show.

"What are you doing here?" She whined, picking a movie from her collection.

"Since you're staying here, I came to accompany you. I've nothing to do, so I thought that I'd watch some TV. It's been a long time since I saw myself on Leno."

"Egotistic git." Hermione said under her breath, sitting down on the couch. "I'm watching a movie."

"No you won't." He remarked.

"Yes. I will."

"No you won't, Casey, don't be difficult."

"I'm not a child!" She exclaimed.

"Yes, you are." He raised an eyebrow at her, and tapping his forefinger on her button nose. Clearly enjoying the moment.

"Shut up!" She said, angered by his very existence. Locking herself in her own room, sinking down to the floor. "I don't want to spend the day with you—leave me alone!"

"Casey, are you there?" She heard frantic knocking on her door. She stayed on her bed, curled up in a ball. Hugging her pillow tightly.

"Casey." He gruffed, "Fine. I'm going to work."

She heard the door slam loudly, and his footsteps disappeared.

The annoying churning of her stomach made her feel the worst. She gave up, and opened the door.

"Harry?" She called, searching for him.

No one answered.

---

Ronald Weasley paced the marble floors of his room, the footsteps of his shoes echoing. His fiery red hair was messy, and he was cussing under his breath as he continued to asses the situation. He was sure of it—that Lady Isabella was a much more intriguing woman, lovely. She's much better than Hermione—she hasn't even shown up in years! But somehow, the Grangers kept insisting that if Hermione didn't return in a month or two, Ron would be able to choose his betrothed on his own.

Frantic knocking on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Ronald! It's the Grangers!" his mother's voice echoed throughout the mansion.

He picked up the phone nervously, recklessly dropping it from shock.

"Ronald, we've found her." Sounded the triumphant voice of Richard Granger, "But we need a plan first." He continued, "Are you in or are you out?"

"I'm in." The redhead finally answered, after a pregnant pause. Unbeknownst to what he has gotten himself into.

"Okay, this is what you'll do..." Richard began...

---

Ginny felt like crying, she'd just received a call from Ronald, ordering her to return home.

Her home was here—in New York! With Draco, Hermione, and Harry.

"Ronald, why?" She whispered into her phone.

"They've found her—Hermione! You need to come home, mother's asking for you." He said smugly, and he was eerily cheerful. He didn't like Hermione at all, he mistreated her in some ways.

"Oh. Hermione's found? That's great!" She tried to sound enthusiastic, but she couldn't help but feel dread for her best friend "Please, Ron. Give me a month." She pleaded. "I need a month. Tell mother that I am fine."

"Fine." He grumbled. Ginny felt a wave of relief sweep through her, if Ron weren't so blind to her mother's plans—who knows, she might be the next Hermione. "Take care, sister." He said quietly then brought down the phone.

She rolled her eyes, Ron may be up to something.

---

Her voice echoed throughout the flat, she expected Harry to turn up by now. For a brief moment, she considered confronting him. But where was he?

_Knock knock._

Harry opened his door to see who came knocking on his door, yawning. He saw a petite woman, her curly hair a shade of black mixed with brown just above her shoulders, her arms crossed over her chest. He raised his eyebrow, staring down at her.

"Do you have a split personality disorder or something?" She told him.

"I—" He started, but Hermione cut him off.

"I mean, one moment you _seem_ likable, and the next you're the most insufferable git I've ever had the misfortune to meet!"

"Casey—I—"

"If you just want to hate me for the rest of my life then go ahead! I'm not forcing you to _like_ me! At some situations you're nice, but don't give me hope that some _person_ like _you_ would ever change." She scowled at him.

"Well?" She asked after a pregnant pause full of tension between them, "Don't you have something to say?"

He only stared at her, then slammed the door. As if he never heard her...

But he did.

---

"He's so infuriating, Ginerva!" Hermione screamed into her phone. "God, at some point I just want to push him off the building and—"

"_Hermione, they know. They know where you are!_" She said worriedly. "_They're going to find you and—_"

"Relax. Relax... What am I going to do? I don't have enough money to rent an apartment or buy a house and such." She panicked, pacing the room.

"You could live with me." Harry offered, suddenly entering the flat, taking a seat on the sofa. "Say hi to Ginny for me."

"_Is that Harry?_" Ginny asked, "_Yes! He can live with you!_"

"Ginerva. Please. I wouldn't be that stupid to stay there." She complained. "I can't even handle him at work! What more if I _live_ with him! Ugh! Honestly—"

Harry cleared his throat, making Hermione turn red from embarrassment—or from anger.

"I happen to have a house in Manhattan." He said smartly. "3 bedrooms, by the beach, sweet smell of the sea, the relaxing waves by the shore, barbeques and hot tubs..."

"I don't care about your bloody house!" she snapped from her trance, she always wanted a house by the beach, and returned to her conversation with Ginny.

"_So it's settled, you're moving in with Harry! This will be fun!" _She exclaimed, then brought down the phone. Leaving Hermione's jaw dropped in shock, and her face drained of all color.

---

**A/N: Like it? I hope you guys did. Hee hee, at least there was a tad bit of tension . Thanks to ****ginsensu**** for suggesting the 'pouring the coffee' part. And to ****pstibbons**** for suggesting the 'granger POV' part.**

**This was my playlist while I wrote this story:**

**"Here is Gone", "Iris" and "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls. "Drops of Jupiter" By Train. "White Houses" By Vanessa Carlton. "Stolen", "Vindicated", "Screaming Infidelites" and "Hands Down" By Dashboard Confessional. "Always" and "I Miss You" by Blink 182**

**Check them out if you want to. :D**


	6. The Sixth Sense

**A/N: Thanks to ****cosmopolitan**** who cited some mistakes in the last chapter. I'll change the location from Manhattan to Miami. :D Sorry if there are places I mention that are not at all in Miami, I am not familiar with cities/places at America. –sniff-sniff-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP, or anything for the matter. But I do intend on taking over the world. Mwahaha. Kidding, guys. I'm kidding. **

**Chapter 6: The Sixth Sense**

**---**

It's been 4 days already, and tomorrow would be the day that she would move in with him. Hermione hardly got any sleep that night, she spent her time tossing and turning in bed, simply worried that they have found her. A number of thoughts raced through her mind in a millisecond.

Would she have to change her name again?

How will she arrive there without being suspicious?

What will the press say once they find out that they were living together?

When is she leaving?

How could they have possibly found her?—wait, stupid question, Hermione took down a mental note: Never call George Weasley—again.

What if they kept her dad and the other men on a wild goose chase?

Those thoughts kept her occupied, finally engulfing her in black, as she faded away, succumbing to sleep.

Morning came in faster than she had expected, and she decided that today was the day that she would hide—again. She got up, and started cooking breakfast for four. The meal was eerily quiet, since a lot of feelings emitted from each person, sending their 'waves' circulating and lingering in the air. Ginny was worried—for herself and Hermione. Draco was thinking hard on something. Hermione actually felt that she was on the verge of crying. And Harry was well—bored either that or he was thinking of something subtlety.

"I have a brilliant idea." Ginny's perky voice said. "Why don't you two dress up as Draco and I, so that they won't be suspicious? Harry's too recognizable. It's a good thing that his house is remote, far from the city, I mean."

"How about you guys?" Hermione asked, "Wouldn't it be hard for you two?"

"No—we could just call you people who look exactly like us. Probably confuse a few, people." She suggested deviously.

"Father could help with the security. So that no one could you know—take pictures." Draco added.

"It's settled then. We're leaving later. I'm Draco and Casey's Ginny, just for today." Harry said, standing up from the table and drinking a second glass of orange juice.

"Come on! It'll be fun. Those men won't recognize you if they see a woman who _looked like me_ but who _isn't me_ entering the house. They wouldn't bother about it."

"So, why couldn't I just you know—change how I look? Blond hair? Blue contact lenses?"

"Don't ruin the fun, Hermione." Ginny pleaded, "It's just a day!"

Hermione wanted to retaliate, but she stopped herself, thinking about how much trouble she cost her friends. "Fine." She sighed heavily. Dreading the day before it could even start."

---

"Draco, I'm really going to miss you, buddy." Hermione mumbled to him after receiving a fierce hug. "Please stay indoors for the next 48 hours. You know what it's like. I'm somehow glad that no one knows of Harry's house, yet." Draco only nodded at her, and pecked her forehead, mumbling "I'll miss you." To her ear. They received scowls from Harry and Ginny for some odd reason.

Harry and Hermione decided to dress up as Draco and Ginny, for the chance that they wouldn't be found out. Luckily, Ginny managed to 'borrow' two wigs—one pale blond, for Harry. And another was a dashing color of red, and the strands were straight, for Hermione. Since the two insisted that they have no plans on making their hair permanently pale blond or red colored. The plan was going smoothly, and for some unknown reason Hermione felt a twinge of excitement beneath her dreadful state.

"Ginny—" Hermione turned to her, "I'm not wearing your clothes! What's wrong with mine?"

"Everyone knows that I don't dress in simply at T-Shirt and jeans..." She began, "Your cover might be blown!"

"Oh please—you're just making me wear a mini skirt so that I'd somehow embarrass myself." Hermione retorted, "Seriously, a mini skirt? Heels? At least the top isn't so..." Hermione looked towards the ceiling, thinking of a word that would suffice. "Ginny." She said, quite happy with herself.

"Come on, Harry has no problem wearing Draco's clothes!" Ginny huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Because Draco's always in a suit!" She huffed back, turning around, facing away from her. Ginny's mouth dropped in shock, but she recovered easily, and faced away as well, chin held high.

"Please—ladies, no need to fight over me." Harry mocked, suddenly butting in and flinging his arms around their shoulders, standing in between the two 'redheads'. He was already in his blond wig and Draco's suit, wearing sunglasses. Smiling as he was playfully hit on the arm by Ginny.

"I don't want to wear a mini skirt! Or a tight top for that matter!" Hermione complained.

"Put a sock in it, let's go. Off to Miami!" He announced, and she grudgingly complied, putting on her disguise and sunglasses. "Do I have to _act_ like her too?" She complained, loud enough to receive another wave of glares from Ginny.

"I'm just _joking_ dahling. Oh Draco honey I love you so, so, so, much! Mwah." Hermione started, waving her arms in the air, making a somewhat accurate impression of Ginny. The two redheads laughed at each other. And soon they engulfed in a hug, and Hermione felt her eyes well-up with tears.

"You guys look like twins now!" Harry commented, breaking the sweet moment. "Let's go." He grumbled, making an impression of Draco, also doing a great job with his accent. "Father lets me buy _everything _for you, darling Ginny. Oh I'm such a cocky bastard." He joked, and by the end of his act, Hermione and Ginny were laughing boisterously as Draco glared at him. Harry just heard the phrase 'If looks could kill, I would be dead by now' go through his head.

"Let's go, guys." Draco grumbled, practically pushing the imposter 'Ginny and Draco' out of the door. Closing it behind him. He could swear he heard Harry say "I told you so. He grumbles 'Let's go' a lot." And soon their footsteps disappeared. Leaving him and his girlfriend stuck in a silence pregnant with anxiety and stillness.

"Ron wants me home in a month." Ginny started, staring at her feet. "Probably to marry some old git. Then I'll be the next Hermione. Great."

Draco felt his heart drop.

---

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Hermione muttered to no one in particular as Harry followed squarely behind her. She felt her heart stop as well as her feet freeze on its tracks on the stone staircase leading to his house once her eyes fixed on the mansion in front of her. It as humongous, and it gave her an odd feeling of nostalgia for her home in England. It was painted white, and it was intimidating, like towering over you. It was a good thing that he lot goes far enough to keep neighbors from seeing them, as well as paparazzi taking pictures. Every single thing was _perfect_ about this house. If this was her reaction to the outside, she feared what her reaction would be when she finally went inside this...mansion. She finally found herself and started walking towards the steel door.

"Come on, you wouldn't want to ruin their high spirits, you know. Ginny was just asked to come home in a month. This was the least we could do for them." He reasoned, as Hermione froze in her tracks, her heart beating profusely as she stared at him in shock.

"She can't be coming home!" She exclaimed, finally finding her words.

"She is. Deal with it." He said harshly, but still frowning at the thought of Ginny leaving.

"Swimming pool's right over there." Harry pointed to a small passageway at the side of his house, she snorted.

"You have a swimming pool, in a house that's practically next to the beach!" She laughed, and he looked at her as if she just came from a mental institute. "What?" She huffed.

"You seriously haven't seen those shows about celebrity houses? Everyone has a swimming pool!" He said in disbelief, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes at him. They finally entered. The floor was covered in white tiles and everything was basically painted white. There were two staircases in front of them—one leading to the right, and the other leading to the left—and there was a hall in between. If you went far enough, you would see the living room, and if you turn to your left, the kitchen. And the dinning room was inside as well. But if you turned right, you would find an entertainment room, and an office.

If you went straight while at the living room, you would see two pairs of glass doors, revealing a swimming pool, as well as a large backyard.

"You own the left wing, and I own the right." He pointed to two staircases in front of them. "The kitchen's farther inside," He said, gesturing to the hallway in between the staircases. "And in your wing you'll find a bedroom, bathroom, as well as a library and a few entertainment rooms and such. Everything's fully furnished and that's pretty much it."

"What's in your wing?" Hermione asked, curious.

"You wouldn't want to know." He smirked, "My wing is off-limits—honestly, Casey, stop pouting. I'll see you at dinner." And then he left her.

---

Curiosity—especially in the form of a dog—always _did_ kill the cat.

Hermione ended up walking along Harry's wing cautiously, lurking in the darkness, she tiptoed slowly, one foot in front of the other.

Sudden barking made Hermione's heart stop. She turned around, to face a vicious black dog, with yellow eyes and its yellow teeth chattering. She heard herself shriek, and she ran off scared as it started running after her.

"Sirius! There you are!" Harry appeared in front of Hermione, his back facing her—he smelled oddly of medicine, those kind of ointments you put on rashes, or when you have body aches. The dog suddenly sat down as Harry leaned down to pat his head. It waggled its tail appreciatively. "Good boy." He said, smiling. He handed him a dog biscuit. "Thanks for tracking her down for me. You're a good boy!"

"You asked it to track me down?" Hermione screamed, "That's horrible! I didn't know that you would resort to this."

"I didn't know that you would resort to this either." He scowled at her. "Go back to your room, Casey."

"I'm _not_ a child!"

"Don't be difficult!"

"I am _not a child_!" Hermione shouted back. "You're so—argh!" She disappeared from his sight mumbling insults to him. He watched her leave. What was her deal with that? He returned to the room he came from, patting Sirius on its head.

The room was dimly lit the maroon walls gave a certain ambience to the room, as the only light came from a lamp on the bedside table. Sirius immediately went beside the man in front of him. And he scratched the back of its ear. Making its tail waggle in delight. Harry sniffed the air, it smelled of medicine. He took an apple from the table and chewed it happily. The man in front of him looked at him expectantly.

"Harry, what was all that about?" The man who was sitting on his chair, reading a book, asked.

"Nah, it's nothing Uncle Remus. How's your condition?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the bottles of medicine lined up on a table.

"I'll be fine. You know, still the same." He said, nonchalant, waving his hand in the air. Harry dismissed the topic immediately. "Thanks for letting me stay here. You practically gave this house to my wife and I."

"Anything for you and Aunt Tonks, you know. By the way, where is she?" He asked, Remus gestured to the bathroom. And Harry chuckled.

"Who was that woman?" He asked, nudging Harry on his side.

"She's just staying with us for a while. How is father?" He asked, changing the subject. Remus didn't seem to notice it.

"James called me a while ago." Remus said to him, his face sullen, and his eyes growing dim.

"What?" Harry asked, looking around.

"You know how he is when you're rude to Penelope." He remarked.

Harry felt himself sigh, then rub the side of his neck. He looked down, and fiddled with the hem of his jacket. Remus looked at him expectantly, then nodded at him. "You should rest now, Harry." He said. Patting the young man on his back. "Good night." As Tonks emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Good night Uncle Remus. Aunt Tonks." He greeted, then closed the door behind him.

---

Hermione sat by the stairs by the back of the house, overlooking the swimming pool that had the reflection of the full moon on it. She sighed heavily, and she someone sit beside her.

"Oh. Sirius, is it?" She asked the dog who lied down beside her. She rubbed its head quietly, still hypnotized by the moon. "Ew. You licked me!" She said, giggling.

"Have you ever been to England?" She asked, talking to Sirius, "They have the cutest parks ever." She said. "You might even find a girlfriend there."

Sirius barked at her, and she laughed. "Are you still angry at me?" She asked, and it shook its head. "Good boy." She praised, patting its back. She smiled to herself, she needed someone who wouldn't criticize her. She suddenly missed her cat, Crookshanks.

"I finally have evidence that you're psychotic." A cold voice said from the distance. "You talk to dogs."

"What are you doing here?" She scowled at him, and his emerald green eyes twinkled. Another smirk graced his lips.

"It's my house, remember?" He reminded, sitting beside her.

"Yes, I remember" She said quietly. "Why are you so secretive of your wing? Or whatever you call it?" she asked, "Is there a dead body or something?"

"No..." He said evasively. "It's nothing. Good night." He called Sirius to follow him, and the two left her. She stared at the moon, sighing.

---

"Ginny, what if you don't come home?" Draco asked, looking at the wonderful view of the moon by the window, she emerged from the bathroom and called him when she slipped under the sheets. He followed her and went to bed. His arm draped around her waist, and she gave him a meaningful look.

"What do you mean?" She asked quizzically.

"I've been thinking a lot about this...I mean—what if you marry me? You won't go back there, would you?" He asked, and her eyes lit up, and she smiled brightly at him.

"Are you proposing?" She whispered, her eyes brimming with fresh, hot tears.

"In a weird, unromantic way? Yes. Yes I am." He said, smiling.

---

"You changed your hair to brown!" Harry said, shocked at Hermione as she entered the dining room. "Who the hell are you? Where's Ginny?" He smirked at her, teasing the woman in front of him.

"Casey. Ginny is probably snogging Draco senseless." She mumbled, sitting down on her chair lazily, nibbling on her piece of toast. He frowned with disgust.

"Eat." He said, shoving his untouched plate full of food to her. She eyed him suspiciously, then took a piece of ham from his plate and put it on hers, and gave the plate back.

"I'm good with this." She mumbled quietly, gesturing to the piece of bread on her hand and the portion of ham on her plate. She ate her food silently.

"Are you okay? You look sick." He asked, looking at her with worry.

"Scary movie. Can't sleep." She mumbled quietly. There were black circles under her eyes, and her shaky behavior made her drop her fork to the floor. She bent down to pick it up, accidentally hitting her head on the table from below. She got up cautiously, checking to see if anyone saw her. Then two pairs of cinnamon colored eyes landed on him.

"Ouch." She mumbled quietly, getting up from the table and almost tripping on the stairs on her way out.

"Good luck, princess." He joked, chuckling as he saw her lose balance and almost fall head first into his dog, Sirius who barked at her, making her jump with surprise.

After 10 minutes, Hermione came back to the dining room, taking a seat beside him. "Can't sleep." She mumbled. "I was always afraid of zombies."

"Was I in the movie?" He joked, and she glared at him.

"You were the man who was stabbed on the back." She shuddered and continued eating. She heard faint laughing from the direction of Harry's room. She stared at him, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you sure that it's just the two of us?" Hermione asked him, "I always hear voices..."

"Yes, Casey. Don't tell me you have the Sixth Sense or something..." He said quietly. "Go with me outside." He grabbed her hand and brought her too the swimming pool. There was a walk way across the pool, allowing them to cross to the other side.

"Watch your step. You've got to see the scenery. It's really beautiul." He said, dragging her towards the small stone path, and standing at the middle. He pointed to the sky.

"See that?" he asked, and she looked up.

"What am I supposed to see?" She asked, staring up.

"It's right there!" He said, then diverted his attention to the woman beside him who was staring at the sky. He smiled mischievously. He held her by her waist and jumped towards the pool, taking her with him. She shrieked in surprise. "What am I supposed to—AHHHH!!"

She gasped for air as she sent glares at him. She got out of the pool, sitting on the walkway. "Harry James Potter you unbelievably childish son of a—" her yelling was muffled by her screams once again as Harry was able to drag her back to the water, he was laughing.

"Come on, Casey, live a little!" he teased.

"I've done my fair share of living!" She said, angry at him.

"Don't ruin the fun! Don't leave." He ordered as she was climbing up again, he grasped her wrist tightly. Sending chills up both of their spines. She rolled her eyes at him As he dragged her in the pool again. They were laughing boisterously. And they heard a door fly open.

"What is all that ruckus over there?" Remus asked jokingly, standing on the balcony that overlooked the swimming pool.

"Harry, you told me no one was living here—then, who's that? Or am I seeing dead people?" Hermione said quietly, color draining from her face, still staring up at the pale, limp man staring back at them.

---

"Remus Lupin." The man introduced himself, lifting his arm in the air. Hermione shook it slowly. "Have we met?" He asked.

"No, actually, I haven't met anyone from Harry's side of the family." She began, nudging him on his side.

"So, is there anything else I should know about?" Hermione asked, looking up at the two of them.

"My wife, Nymphadora Tonks is out, she's accompanying the maid to go shopping." He said, sadly.

"Are you okay sir? Are you usually this pale?" She asked, worried.

"Actually I—" Remus began, but Harry cut him off. "He's fine. He's always that way, right, uncle?" He asked, looking at him nervously. Remus looked at his shoes for a while and contemplated.

"Right." He sighed.

"Oh." Hermione let out, and assessing the awkwardness of the situation. "Well, if you need me, I'll be in my room..." She started, and then decided to leave the two men. She quietly turned around and walked briskly towards the direction of her room.

After she was gone, Remus rolled his eyes at Harry. "Don't lie to the poor girl, I get it—I'm going to die." He scoffed.

"You're not going to die. They can treat it, so don't worry." Harry replied sternly. "You're going to get through this."

"And what if I don't?" Remus retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "She has the right to know."

"You are not going to die." Harry said solidly. "Come on, you're the closest person I've got to a father. And I'm not letting you wallow in your misery, you _are_ going to get through this..."

"James and Penelope care greatly of you. They are your parents." He began, "James just doesn't show it—"

"You're right. He didn't show it—he didn't show it my whole life!" Harry retorted, "I know that mom's death is all depressing but still—"

"He has good intentions, Harry. And you'll know it sooner or later." Remus said, "We'll talk about this later." He walked slowly to him, and patted Harry's back.

"She has the right to know, I know you know." Remus reminded him before leaving Harry alone in the living room, thinking.

---

Hermione sighed as she went under the covers of her big, queen-sized bed.

"It's just my first day here. Ugh, and here I am, scared to death and—wait, what was that?" She asked, staring into the darkness as she heard a loud 'thump', her bed shook.

---

_Knock, knock._

"Casey?" Harry asked, opening his door. His voice was hoarse, he ran his fingers through his black, messy hair. "It's one o'clock in the morning. What are you doing here?"

"Can I stay in with you?" She asked, shivering.

---

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Please review and tell me what you think. :)**

**Thank you guys for reviewing! Your reviews motivate me to post the chapter up faster . Thanks so, so, so much.**

**This will never be a DHr fic, I just felt like putting the moon thingy, if you're in the mood for DHr, visit my new story, _Dreamless Slumber_** **:> **


	7. Dislike

**A/N: Here's another chapter. : The next should be up soon. Thanks to all my reviewers and readers! And yes—I mean **_**all**_** of you!**

**Chapter 7: Dislike**

---

"So—let me get this straight." Harry said, pointing a finger at her, trying to hold back his laughter.

"You—" Harry began, then paused. She nodded. "Want—" She nodded, "To sleep here." She nodded again.

"Because—" She nodded, "You're afraid—" He paused, and she nodded again. "Of being invaded by zombies?"

"Yes, that is correct." Hermione replied, sighing. Harry nodded only once, opening his door wider to reveal his room—which was much bigger than hers. She walked in silently, suspicious of any prank that he might pull on her. She tapped her foot on the cold, tiled floor, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He asked blandly, looking at her curiously. She took a deep breath.

"You're not going to laugh?" She asked, horrified.

"No." He deadpanned, and after a very pregnant pause, he burst into fits of laughter. "Okay—I mean, come on! You're afraid of—" he couldn't continue his sentence and left it hanging, as he started laughing again. She glared at him—well, she _did_ expect this.

After 3 minutes or so, his face became serious once again, "Oh." He let out, realizing that she really _wanted_—if not wanted—_needed_ to. "Fine, whatever." He shrugged and opened the door wider. He yelped in pain as he felt her cold, hard fist against his arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" He cried, scowling at her.

"I'm sleeping on the bed." She mumbled, and he started bursting into fits of laughter again. "Why? Afraid that the zombies will get you? From under the bed?" He remarked, flabbergasted, and in turn he received another strong hit on his arm.

"Fine. I'm sleeping on the couch." He grumbled, she smiled gratefully to him, patting him on his head.

"That's a good boy." She said cheerfully. "You don't have fleas or anything, right?" She teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." He retorted sarcastically. "Go on, the bed won't eat you or anything." He pressed, still chuckling as he gestured to his mattress and gathered a bunch of pillows and his blanket, lying down comfortably on the leather couch.

"You know," He began, flipping through channels on his TV, "We've only known each other for 2 weeks."

"I am aware of that." Hermione grumbled, not being able to sleep because Harry happened to raise the volume even higher.

"And here we are—like we've known each other for years." He remarked, finally turning off when there wasn't anything interesting.

"I wouldn't call it years. We're just like, room mates or something." She said, nonchalant, fiddling with her bracelet.

"Do you hate me?" He asked, staring at the ceiling.

"No—not hate. More of..." She began, searching a word that can possibly describe their not necessarily love-hate relationship, but probably an I-don't-love-you-but-you're-okay-hate relationship. "Dislike." She said, happy that the lights were off, concealing her smile—or the streaks of red that were beginning to dot her cheeks.

"Is that good?" He asked blandly, yawning.

"Yes, it's good." She mumbled.

"What was that?" He slurred, "Sorry. I didn't hear that one."

"I uh—nothing. Good night." She panicked.

"Good night." He said, shifting his position.

And that was the last thing she heard from him, as she drifted off to dreamland.

Morning arrived sooner than she thought it would, completely taking her by surprise. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks soothed her. _It wouldn't hurt to sleep in just a bit._ She told herself. She wanted to sleep in for at least a few more minutes to take in his scent, dig her face into his soft pillows, or wrap herself in his thick blanket—hold on, this is _Harry Potter_, the arrogant self-centered git! She scolded herself.

Sunlight was now shining through the window just behind the bed. And her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes squinted as the bright rays of light reached her cinnamon colored eyes. She was relaxed by the sound of even breathing by her ear. Her eyes widened.

Wait—_whose breathing?!_

She cautiously turned around, to see none other than Harry Potter sleeping beside her, his arm unconsciously draped over her waist, hugging her. How the hell did they get in this position?

"HARRY! Get off! What the hell! Wake up, you git!" She screamed, suddenly sitting up and breaking from his grasp. She lost her balance then fell hard on the floor, her head suddenly bumping the edge of the bedside table. "Ouch." She moaned. "My head, ouch—"

"What—huh?" Harry slurred, awaking from his sleep, he leaned towards the edge of the bed, and gave Hermione a weird look. "What are you doing there?"

"Funny—I was just about to ask the same question." She snapped, regaining balance, she stood and brushed off bits of dirt from her pajamas. "I thought you slept on the couch!" She fumed.

"Oooh." He said, smiling. "Now I remember, you see, I had trouble sleeping, so I slept on the bed, I sort of forgot that you were there."

"How could you forget that I was there? You infuriate me." She groaned as her head throbbed and ached. He smirked.

"I'm just doing my job." He said blandly, "Do you need ice for your head?"

"Ice. Ice is good." She said, calming down with her hand still on her throbbing head, lying on the bed. In no later than 5 minutes, Harry entered the room, holding an icepack in his hand. He pressed it to her head. "Better?" He asked, smiling.

"Yes." She said rolling her eyes.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. Hermione wasn't sure that if the tingling sensation she felt was either from the ice or maybe from something else... They continued to stare at each other, and she blushed profusely, turning her attention to something else.

"Wotcher, Harry, Casey!" Tonks entered the room, disturbing the moment, Hermione felt a twinge of disappointment despite the fact that Tonks managed to save them from any more awkwardness in their situation. Hermione nodded at her. "You must be Nymphadora Tonks, Remus' wife, right?" She asked.

"Just call me by my last name—no, not Lupin. I meant Tonks." She giggled, smiling at them. She found a seat on the couch. Hermione observed her, her hair was a very enthusiastic color of purple, and she looked young, and pretty.

"So what are you two lovebirds doing?" Remus asked, joining his wife, kissing her on the cheek and sitting beside her.

"I feel like I just threw up in my mouth a bit." Hermione remarked. "Lovebirds, oh please." Remus chuckled.

"Uncle." Harry warned, turning to Remus. "We're not lovebirds. Come on—we hate each other." He said, laughing nervously.

"That's what you guys think. You see," Remus began, "When a boy and a girl like each other they—"

"Enough, we know." Harry and Hermione said together, frantically. "You've told me that speech a thousand times since I was ten, I already know about the birds and the bees." Harry supplied, shuddering.

Hermione stood there watching, this was somehow something new to her. She couldn't imagine Harry as a little boy—a boy who would be all cocky and arrogant. Before all the fame and fortune, he was just a normal boy after all. She just had to laugh at that.

The four ate breakfast happily, since Hermione was too engrossed in her book, she wasn't able to eat at all. Until Harry shoved his place towards her, urging her to eat, saying that he'd hide her collection of books if she didn't. She grudgingly complied, pouting. There were times where Hermione would notice that there was something going on—the significant looks that Harry and Remus shot to each other, as if they were having an argument in their head. She shrugged it off, so she spent her time spoiling Sirius with bits of food she'd 'accidentally' drop to the floor when Harry wasn't looking, so that she could read her book earlier.

"Casey, do you want to go out or something?" Harry asked, knocking on her door. She opened it and went back to reading her novel.

"I uh—sure." She said, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"The mall?" He asked.

"Sure. The mall sounds great." She sighed putting down her book, there was actually no harm in going to the mall as friends.

"How about your disguise?" Harry asked, looking at her, a mischievous grin crept up his face.

"Hmm," Hermione contemplated, tapping her finger on her chin, looking around. "I'll have to be Ginny Weasley for a day." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Do you want to dress up as a man?" Harry asked, chuckling. Amusement danced in his bright green emerald eyes.

"No!—what is wrong with you?" Hermione exclaimed, walking towards her dresser. "I'll think of something."

---

"Nice disguise, you're wearing all this..." Harry said, as he stared into Hermione, who had her hair straightened, and applied streaks of red on. She was wearing a lot of eyeliner, as well as a black top, which had imprints of skulls on it and black pants. She was covered in chains and spiky...things. She sort of frightened Harry.

"Stuff." He continued, "I can't believe you're wearing this...That's it—change. I'm not going out with Casey the Goth—pretty hard to imagine, don't you think? Anyway, wear your everyday clothes, I'll let you borrow my jacket and cap or something. You won't blend in—seriously."

"Fine." She huffed, going back to her room, locking it.

"You can always dress up as a man, you know." Harry offered, and he heard her giggle.

After 30 minutes, Hermione finally emerged, dressed in a blue shirt, and jeans, wearing her converse shoes. Harry lent her his jacket and his cap, which was unusually big for her, but she didn't mind.

As they arrived at the mall, they weren't so inconspicuous. They enjoyed watching a movie—which had Harry in it, that egotistic git—and eating lunch in the food court, Harry complained that it's been a while since he ate fast food, so there they were. Enjoying the day which was going smoothly. Until a fan shouted 'Oh my God, it's Harry Potter!' causing heads to turn, and girls to run after them. Luckily, Hermione wasn't recognized at all. They couldn't get a moment of peace in the mall. Everywhere they looked or went to, they were there, whispering and taking pictures.

"Relax, Harry." Hermione whispered to him as they were walking back to the parking lot. "It'll be over before you know it."

"I know." He sighed, looking down to his feet.

"It'll be over soon!" She exclaimed.

"I know." He grumbled, getting in the car. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

"It will be fine." She assured him, he smiled weakly at her.

"We shouldn't be seen together often. Who knows—they mind find you." He said quietly, holding her frail hand and pulling her inside, he scooted over so she could have room in the car.

"Okay then, I'll stay at your house all day. I'll hang out with Remus and Tonks, they're really nice." She said smoothly. "Do what you have to do. It's going to be fine."

"I know, Casey. Thank you." He said, exhaling, unaware that he held his breath. He looked her in her eyes, and gave her an awkward one-arm hug. Hermione felt her heart drop, he'd been..._decent_ to her. And this is how she'd been paying him back all this time:

By lying about her whole life.

---

"Ronald, you were supposed to bring her home—now!" Boomed the voice of Richard Granger from the phone. Ron shuddered, and almost dropped the phone from his sweaty hands. So many things have been on his mind. And for a brief moment, he didn't care where Hermione was. He wanted Lady Isabella.

"She asked for a month." Ron said nonchalantly, rolling his eyes, recounting his conversation with Ginny. He flipped through a sports magazine, and found an article about Viktor Krum, a famous football player quite interesting.

"We don't have a month!" He fumed. "Ginny was important to the plan!"

"Hey—leave my sister out of this!" Ron said defensively. "If she doesn't want to come here then she won't come here! If she said that she needed a month then she has a month!"

"Do you want to marry Hermione or not?"

"I—uh." Ron stuttered, thinking hard, of an answer—but he couldn't picture his future with Hermione Granger. He frowned slightly. "Lady Isabella—"

"Is getting married to the Potters." He said, cutting him off in mid-sentence.

"The Potters?" Ron asked, flabbergasted, he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, making him feel anxiety and rage boiling inside of him. "Really?"

"That's what they said." Richard supplied, as a big smile crept up his face. He found lying easy to do now.

"That can't be." Ron mumbled. "You're lying."

"Do you believe me or not? Do you _want _to help me or not? Do you want Hermione to come back or _not_?" Richard yelled, quite frustrated. His voice rising. Ron stared off into space, thinking.

"Well?" Richard Granger pressed.

---

"You're sleeping here—again?" Harry asked lazily, opening his door for her. She nodded.

"I swear that there's this really odd 'thump' and then my bed shakes. It's like the Exorcist all over again." She shuddered.

"If you're so afraid, then why do you still watch those scary movies then?" He smirked and Hermione fell silent, she thought of a reason—why _did_ she watch scary movies all the time? He sniggered.

"I get it! You're scaring yourself so you could sleep in my room. Admit it, you _love_ me, you've fallen _head over heels_ with me." He teased, receiving a sharp blow to his side.

"No, I'm not!" She said defensively, "You're too full of yourself. I watch scary movies because there's nothing else to watch, besides, I love the adrenaline." She mumbled. And he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say." He teased, then concealed the phrase 'You love me' by coughing.

"I do not love you!" She exclaimed.

"Fine, don't be so sensitive about it." He said, smirking. "Denial." He coughed. She glared at him.

"Sod off." She mumbled, sitting down on his couch. "I'm sleeping here. I don't want to wake up beside you." She huffed, lying down on the squeaky leather couch.

"Fine." He huffed, "I'll be here, comfortable and everything. By the warm heater, I'll have a good night's sleep. Unlike the hard, cold, couch you're sleeping on, I'm actually on something soft." He tempted.

"I don't care." She said, rolling her eyes, and falling asleep.

---

Hermione sat on her chair around the dining table at 3 am in the morning, eating a piece of cake she stole from the fridge. She dug her fork and took in another bite. Something alarmed her, she thought she heard someone or something outside. She bent her head sideways to get a better look.

"What's happening out there?" She mumbled.

"Casey?" Asked a voice from behind her.

"Oh—hi, Remus. How are you?" She asked, smiling at him. "Cake?" she offered.

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm not into sweets." He supplied, smiling at her.

"Erm, okay then." Hermione said sadly. "You look a bit shaky, are you sure you're okay? What are you doing up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep. You see, it's sort of complicated, but you can't tell anybody that I'm telling you this." He began, smiling slightly at her. "Well, a few years ago, I was—"

"Oh, hello guys." Harry greeted, pouring himself a glass of milk. "You had a party without me?" He pouted. Hermione rolled her eyes at him as he sniggered, taking another sip from his glass.

"Hello Harry." Hermione said distractedly, then turned to Remus. "As you were saying?"

"Why? What were you telling her about?" Harry said, he looked worried, and his tone was serious. "Are you okay? Feeling anything?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Not interesting anyway. I'll see you later, Casey." He said evasively, smiling.

"Okay." Hermione said, disheartened on pursuing the topic. She bent her head in defeat.

"I'm going back to bed—or the couch, if you may." She told Harry, walking right past him, he followed her to his room.

"Good night." She said, going under the blanket she placed on his couch. He nodded then went back to bed. She found herself contemplating on Remus' behavior, it's not normal for a man to be that frail, shaky, _weak._

Before she knew it, she was being pulled into darkness.

_20 year old Hermione was in an elegant, white dress, walking with her father as they made their way to the dinner party._

_"Dad, I don't want to be married!" She spat, "It's unfair. I didn't ask for this."_

_"Not now, Hermione." He scolded, and she frowned, that phrase has been said to her since she was 3 feet tall. They entered the empty ballroom. Hermione ignored her father, and continued._

_"No. I don't want to be married for your selfish reasons!" She yelled, "It is not fair! I haven't done anything!"_

_A loud clapping sound lingered in the air, Hermione's hand flew to her left cheek. Her father had slapped her. "Don't be childish." He seethed, "It isn't appealing at all. You're an embarrassment."_

_"I am not a child." She told him, "I'm not being childish. This is my future we're talking about."_

_She felt her tears sting her eyes, and her left cheek was throbbing. There was a large imprint of her father's hand on it. She stared up at him, "I have to go." then she felt herself running._

_And running._

_And running._

_"Hermione Jane Granger, get back here!" His voice boomed, causing heads to turn and watch the 'princess' run..._

_Those double doors seemed too far._

_Ronald's screams were too loud._

_And her left cheek was too painful._

_But she ran, ran to go away from her highly abusive father, as well as start a new life._

_She didn't want this._

_She didn't want this at all._

"Ouch." She yelped, her hand unconsciously flying to her cheek, she looked around. She sighed. The memory just kept repeating and repeating in her head, and she didn't know why she felt like crying whenever she thought of it.

"Casey?" Harry mumbled, and for a brief moment Hermione thought that he was asleep. "Are you okay?"

"Bad dreams. I—uhm." She felt traitor tears roll down her cheeks. "I'm okay."

"Are you crying?" He asked, not getting up, he still stared at the ceiling, still flat on his bed.

"No." She sniffed. "I'm not crying."

"Okay then." He said, pretending to go back to sleep. "I'm going to go back to sleep now... If you're not crying. I'm going to sleep now..." He announced, smirking.

"Fine. I'm crying." She confessed, and immediately, Harry was in front of her, crouching. He stared into her eyes, got up and flickered the lights open. He was in his original position, crouching in front of her, staring at her eyes.

"Why are you crying?" He asked—more like whispered.

"It was just a bad dream." She said, as more tears rolled down her face. "Just a bad dream." She repeated. She felt herself float, and then she realized that someone was carrying her. Her reflexes caused her to wrap her arms around him, scared of falling. "Let me go." She whined.

"I can't exactly let you go if you're clinging on to me." Harry laughed.

She carefully removed her arms, but that didn't work, she was still in mid-air since his hand was under her bent knees, and his other hand was supporting her back. "Let me go!" She whined again, kicking in the air. "I'm fine."

"I'm fine." She repeated.

"You sound as if you're trying to convince yourself and not me, you know." He remarked. And that got her.

So she gave in, her arms finding their way safely around his neck. He put her down on his bed, and she felt a tad bit better. "Do you want me to stay?" He offered.

"I uh—I don't know." She mumbled quietly.

He looked at her expectantly, and made an adorable face.

"Fine." She grumbled. "But there should be a 3 feet distance between the two of us."

"Okay." He yawned, turning off the lights and slipping under the covers, beside her, the distance between them was thinning, and he heard her rapid breathing.

"3 feet, Potter." She warned, she could hear him smirk and he didn't listen, still close enough. She felt his hot breath against her nape, and it made her skin tingle. "Harry." She warned, but he still didn't comply.

He didn't want to comply.

"Potter." She warned again.

He sighed in defeat, and moved exactly 3 feet away from her.

---

"Hello James." Richard greeted over his cell phone. James wasn't actually aware of his grudge towards him, and he planned for it to stay that way.

"Oh—hello, Richard." He greeted back.

"How would you like your son to marry Lady Isabella of the Chamberlains?" He suggested, smiling deviously.

---

"Harry. Get off." She mumbled, suddenly waking up in the same position they were yesterday. She managed to slip off him, and she walked towards the kitchen. Yawning as she grabbed the plate that was ready made by the kitchen staff. She thanked them and walked towards the dining room, almost tripping over Sirius. She nodded to Mitch, who was close by, watching her. He nodded back.

"Hello." She greeted the black dog, feeding it a piece of bacon. It barked happily, she smiled sweetly at him, and patted his head.

"Mitch?" Hermione called.

"Yes, Miss Casey?" He answered, approaching her.

"Do you have security cameras outside?" she implored, pushing her scrambled eggs around the plate, bored.

"Yes." He answered. Hermione detected a hint of worry in his voice. "Is there a problem?"

"I thought I saw something by the bushes over there." She said, and pointed to the location. "Can you see if there was anything on the security camera?"

"I'll handle it." He said cautiously, approaching the bush. Hermione ate while waiting. Sighing as she saw herself and Harry on the front cover of a magazine **'Harry Potter: Visits Miami with a girl friend or a girlfriend?'** She sighed sadly. The headlines were getting cornier and cornier. She rolled it up and tossed it to the side. She fed a few pieces of sausage to Sirius while waiting, engrossed in her novel.

"Good morning Casey, did you know that you talk a lot in your sleep?" Harry remarked, sitting down across her, his coffee in his hand. She turned to face him. And she felt herself tense, she tried not to hyperventilate—she could've said _anything_. She searched her thoughts for any dreams or anything she could've said.

"Yeah?" Hermione asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "What did I say?"

"Nothing much. You said you loved me, actually." He said quietly.

---

**A/N: Too cliffie for you: Hahaha. Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me what you think. : **


	8. How Good Was Miss Granger?

**A/N:**_**NOTE**_**: I might mention a lake in this fic, and I'm not too sure about 'the lake' I specify here, let's just say it's fictional. I'm not good in details, after all. Lol. Forgive me.**

**Chapter 8: "How Good Was Miss Granger?"**

**---**

She felt her heart stop, and refuse beating. Time froze, and her stomach was twisting and churning, heavy silence hovered above her, clouding her thoughts.

It was impossible.

"I—what?" Hermione asked, her eyes beginning to water. She didn't even fancy him, and all of a sudden she says 'I love you, Harry' in her sleep? She felt herself hyperventilate, and her heart was pounding so hard. She felt sick to her gut.

"You're serious?" She questioned, holding back her tears.

"No." Harry said, chuckling. "Relax, I was just joking."

"That wasn't funny." She said, trying to calm herself down, but she did anything than calm down. Her chest was still pounding, and she felt anxiety take over her.

"I just wanted to know your reaction." He said, laughing. Hermione could feel her tears drop, making little dots on her pajamas. "April fools?" He tried, even if it was near September.

"I am not some experiment you toy with! I'm not some guinea pig you taunt and you _charm_ and you confuse _just_ so you can see its reaction!" She looked up at him, her tears continuing to fall. She did the first thing that came to mind. Run.

"Where are you going?" Harry called, getting up from his seat. Hermione didn't answer.

She runs up to her room, and Mitch follows her, standing by the door. She slammed it loudly, and he could hear her faint sobs. Mitch felt a twinge of compassion in his gut, but dismissed it. "Mitch." She called. He opened the door slightly, sticking his head in. "Yes ma'am?"

"Can I have a moment? I mean alone?" She said, staring up at him.

He nodded, thinking that she could at least be an exception. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks." She mumbled quietly, sitting in a corner in her room, crying.

She wrapped her shoulders tightly around herself. Her shoulders were shaking, and she took in sharp intakes of breath. How could he have been so stupid? He was only amused of her reactions, taking her in for surprise after surprise. She closed her eyes tightly, as more tears came. The faint sound of footsteps alarmed her. She got up slowly, locking the door. She went towards her bed, lying down as her sides ached from all that stress.

She desperately wrapped herself in her blanket, trying to sleep, as her tears continued to flow, making her pillow damp. She wanted to sleep so badly, so that the annoying pain in her heart would be numb for the next few hours.

The odd 'thump' was there again, making Hermione jolt up from her bed. She looked at the clock, it was seven in the evening. Her room was starting to fall victim to nocturnal darkness, as she tiptoed around on the cold floor. She finally found her way to her bathroom, and took a dip in her bathtub. Then she changed into her everyday clothes after 30 minutes, she slowly opened her door.

And there he was.

He had supposedly fallen asleep waiting for her, at the foot of her door. He was sitting down, his legs spread in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest, and his head bent. She walked cautiously around Harry, afraid of waking him up. She found her way towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Someone asked.

"Why would you care?" She retorted, walking towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, grasping her arm.

"Let go of me!" She hissed, her voice echoed throughout the house, making Harry wince slightly. "I'm going out."

"Let me go." She scoffed, her arm violently slipping from his grip.

"No." he said, grasping her wrist. Hermione groaned loudly—her tears were coming again.

"Harry, let me go." She pleaded, her tears falling again, making little dots on the doormat.

"What do you want from me?!" Cried Hermione, as more tears welled up in her eyes.

"At least let Mitch accompany you." He mumbled.

"I can take care of myself." She huffed, slapping him as he reached out to grab her other arm. He looked at her, dumbfounded. She scowled at him, running off, somehow getting in a taxi before the guards could follow her.

---

"Take me to New York." Hermione sniffed, entering a taxi, she sat down at the backseat, and she heard the doors lock. She looked up frantically, realizing that it was a precaution taxi drivers did only seconds later.

"England's always nice." The taxi driver commented, Hermione staggered.

"Who are you?" She asked, turning her head towards the driver's seat.

"You wouldn't want to know that." He threatened, smiling, but beneath his smile, he was serious. Hermione got the impression that he was joking. She thought that maybe it was a coincidence.

"I said New York." She argued.

"I really think you should go to England, now." The man suggested. Hermione kept silent.

"Nice to see you again, Ms. Granger. Or should I call you by Ms. Barrett now?" Laughed the man in the driver's seat, he turned his head around to face her as he continued driving. Her jaw dropped in horror. He was the man from a couple of weeks ago.

"So you're not with Mr. Potter?" He said his voice acutely happy, forming a threatening smile. "That's good. That's really good."

"Get me out of here!" She cried, trying to open the already locked door, she banged the windows and tried to call the attention of passers-by, but no one noticed. Her tears started to come back.

"GET ME OUT OF HERE! HELP!" She shrieked, still trying to get away. He laughed loudly, menacingly, making her shudder and cringe.

"The only place you're going to is England. Now listen." He commanded, grabbing her by her jaw tightly, his grip tightening, she winced. "There are ten men surrounding your friends house, each armed with guns and smoke bombs. Let's just say that I have the authority to tell them whether to attack or to stay put. You have to help me when I make that decision. If you cooperate, I won't let them hurt your boyfriend and his family."

"I—uh." She stuttered, more tears streaming down her face. "Don't hurt them." She said weakly, trying to stop herself.

"If you behave, we won't hurt them. It's best to keep them out of this, you know. So we don't have to deal with erasing the evidence and all those procedures—they're tiring." He said deviously, his laughing reverberating throughout the vehicle.

"That's... good." She said quietly, dialing 911 on her phone which was hidden in her bag, she pretended to look for her handkerchief while she dialed.

She felt a sharp pain on her hand, and before she knew it, she was lying down on the backseat, her things scattered all over the back seat. Her head throbbed as it clashed against the window.

"Were you just trying to dial 911?" He asked, his voice still innocent. His tone as if he was scolding a child with cavities who accidentally took a cookie from the cookie jar. She felt her blood pump up to her head, and her heart beating rapidly. She felt her head throb even more.

"No." She lied, lightheaded, her head in her hands.

She felt the car's speed increase dangerously, she turned her head to the side, and to see that they were not in Miami anymore... at least that was what she thought, since everything was a blur.

"Let me out!" She started, her fist hitting the window. She raised her voice calling to no one in particular. "HELP ME!"

"Ms. Granger, you remember our agreement, or must I remind you again?" He asked sternly, gripping her wrists tightly so that it started bruising. She winced, as she felt a trickle of blood flow down from her forehead. The car went back into normal speed.

A thought raced through her mind, a dangerous thought.

"What are you doing—" The man asked surprised as Hermione leaned forward, and steered the wheel to its extreme right, making the car crash against a number of trees, it twisted and turned, making deafening screeching sounds. She heard a sharp cry, she looked around to see no one screaming, she put her seatbelt on—to somehow protect her from further injury. It took her a few seconds to realize that the sharp cry was actually coming from her. After what seemed like an eternity, she regained composure, she turned her head to face forward, to see that the man was gone, the door ajar—

And the taxi heading towards the cold, unwelcoming water of the lake.

---

"Where could she be?" Harry asked, pacing the room. "Have they gone after the taxi?" He asked Mitch. He nodded. Harry scolded himself for being too stupid, letting her run off like that. He scolded Hermione for being completely carefree—there were _men _out for her! And here he was, pacing the room worriedly, not having an idea on where she was.

Loud ringing snapped Harry out of his thoughts.

"Speaking." Mitch answered, "What? Okay. Right away. Where? Be there in 10." He said calmly then snapped the phone shut. "Miss Casey's taxi disappeared into the woods. We have a suspicion that it crashed there. I'm going there right now."

"No, I'm going with you." Harry said, bringing his coat a first aid kid along with him.

---

The car was sinking.

Hermione felt the cold water rush in through the doors, and she tried unbuckling her seatbelt, but it was jammed. The water was already to her knees as she started crying tears of frustration. She tried undoing the lock on her door, but she needed to unbuckle her seatbelt, or else the car would sink some more. It disturbed her that the first person in her mind was Harry.

Harry.

She groaned loudly, the water was to her chest. She could feel herself hyperventilate. Her screaming getting louder. "Harry!" She called. "Harry!"

"_HARRY!"_

The water still kept on rising, and she felt claustrophobia creeping up on her, churning her insides and making her body frailer, limp. The water was like ice, it made her teeth chatter as she thought of a way out.

---

"Oh my God." Harry muttered, seeing the mess of broken tree trunks, a car wheel lying on the side, and shards of glass on the ground.

He heard frantic screaming, and he rushed to where the sound was—the lake.

He heard her call his name.

_Casey._

---

The taxi was fully submerged now, and the last hope Hermione had was that someone would come. She held her breath, but she was slowly losing air.

She heard something... a splashing sound.

Her life flashed before her very eyes... as she gave one last tug on her seatbelt that still wouldn't budge.

And then everything turned to black.

---

"CASEY!" Harry shouted, enraged as he saw a car sinking deep into the lake.

He ran, farther than his legs could handle, he felt his joints burn. He frantically took of his shirt, and his shoes. He jumped into the cold water, swimming fast.

He reached the taxi, and saw her unconscious, he felt the world end, his heart drop, and his insides burn.

But he mustn't give up.

He found a piece of metal sinking not too far from him, he grasped it hard, and gave his best blow towards the window. It cracked open, and he went in, ignoring the shards of glass that were cutting deep into his chest. He couldn't unbuckle her jammed seatbelt, so he tried carrying her—so she would slip through the seatbelt and out the window. Fortunately, it worked, and he swam towards the surface.

Finally reaching the surface, he looked for her pulse, but it was gone. She's dead. And he felt himself grow weak, he mumbled a small "Sorry." To her as he bent down to perform CPR a few number of times, and after 5 minutes of agony, she finally had a pulse. Harry lied down on his back beside her in relief as he put his shoes back on. He stood up after a few seconds, and carried her towards the 'search party', since they were still searching in the woods. Her eyes fluttered open briefly looking around, but they closed as soon as she felt a sharp pain by the side of her head.

"I need a medic here! We need to bring her to the hospital!" Harry announced, as he rushed to the car. He felt tears burn his emerald eyes.

He rushed her towards the ER. And a doctor brought helped her to a stretcher.

"What happened?" He asked.

"She drowned, I actually performed CPR on her and I got a weak pulse, I'm not sure if it's supposed to mean something but—" Harry informed.

"You did well, Mr. Potter. Now, could you please wait by the lobby?"

"I can't leave her." He began, but was cut off as soon as he opened his mouth to speak.

"We'll handle it. Now sir, please, we're losing time. She could lose a lot of blood." He told Harry, running off with some nurses who were pushing Hermione's stretcher towards a room where Harry couldn't enter.

---

Two men were in a large office, the color dark green was painted on its walls and a black carpet over the floor. There was a black desk in the middle, as well as a phone that wouldn't stop ringing. One man was standing in front of the other, who was comfortably in a chair, drinking a cup of tea. The first man felt clammy, he knew that he wouldn't be let out easily.

"She might've died." Informed the first man, he had a few cuts on his face, as well as his arms. "She turned the wheel, making us crash into the woods. I managed to escape."

"Mister McNair, the Grangers have trusted us to bring her home safely. What do you think will happen if I tell them that Miss Granger is resting 6 feet below the ground? Or the bottom of a lake perhaps?" An older man asked, infuriated. He was sitting in a large leather chair in his office, no longer drinking his tea he took a look at the bits of paper scattered on his desk. He looked like her was in his 50s, but his age was still indefinite. He looked handsome the kind where you could distinguish that he was even better looking 25 years ago, and he was now smoking an expensive cigar.

"I stayed for a while, and I saw Harry Potter with a search party enter the woods, looking for her. She'll be fine." He reasoned, calmly.

"And don't you think that you might've ruined all our chances now? She'd be guarded every second of every minute of every hour of everyday. Our client _asked_ for stealth! And who kidnaps her without any assistance? No one would dare do that alone! And in a taxi!" The man scolded, outraged.

"Mister Riddle, I promise that next time I would—"

"There is no next time, Mister McNair. We no longer need your services." The man named 'Mister Riddle' informed. "Pack up, and return to wherever you came from. You must not tell this to anyone. If you did—well, you know that there are dire consequences." He said, rather cheerfully, picking up a knife, and throwing it at the man in front of him, missing his face by centimeters and piercing the dartboard behind him. He leaned further on to his desk, to whisper something. "We _do_ know where you live."

The man was taken aback, but recovered easily. "Yes, sir." He nodded then headed towards the door.

"Oh, and Walden?" he called to Mister McNair, causing him to turn, "Bring in Antonin Dolohov for me. Perhaps he would suffice." Mister Riddle ordered.

"Yes sir." He said quietly.

---

Harry threw his keys angrily to the table as he went home. They treated his wounds, and hundreds of thoughts raced through his head, making him dizzy, and anxious. It was all his fault, that Casey was where she is. She wouldn't have left if he did that foolish trick on her.

Only two weeks with her, and his life had changed drastically, from breaking up with his girlfriend, to the media making more fuss about their relationship, moving away from New York, saving her life numerous times—getting his own life in danger too...

But he didn't care, she was his friend, and this is what friends do.

He buried his head into his sweaty palms, sinking next to a small table housing a lamp, and he felt hot tears burning his eyes, making them sting. It was only until a loud crashing sound echoed throughout the house, making him awake that he was violently shaking.

_With rage._

It was _his_ fault on why Casey was lying unconscious on a stretcher, with doctors hooking her up to all sorts of machines. _His_ fault on why left in the first place. And because of him,

He could've lost her, if he _hadn't_ come... Well, he didn't want to think about it, and open his mind to such terrifying possibilities.

"Harry?" Asked Remus, who was walking towards him. Harry looked up at him, and felt his tears slip from his grasp, rolling down his cheek.

"She drowned." He said quietly, and his voice was starting to rise. "She drowned and it was my fault. It's my fault that her frail, weak body of hers lied lifeless in my arms." He felt his eyes burn, as more tears came.

"Harry, it will be fine." Remus added meekly.

"I guess...I—never mind, how was your Chemo session?" Harry asking, changing the topic. He blinked back his tears.

"Painful." He sighed. "It's getting worse and more tiring. It's not like I'll get any better. I've accepted it, Harry. You must accept it too."

"Uncle, please, not now. Casey almost _died_. And I don't think that I could handle your death, as well. I'm barely standing here. The treatment will work, it will keep you healthy and you'd be better again."

"Why do you insist on this treatment? Why do you have such faith on doctors who are just as human as you and I? With all the money, and the resources... and medicine..." Remus stated, sitting down with him.

"I have faith. I know that you're going to be better. I won't rest until I know that they've finally found a cure for Leukemia. So please, Uncle Remus, don't join Uncle Sirius and mother up there." He said, gesturing to the heavens above. "Because I don't think I can handle any more heart attacks, car crashes, cancers, or drowning for that matter." His godfather, Sirius had bled in front of him when he was 11 because of a car accident, and his mother had a heart attack and was dead on arrival. He felt his eyes well up again as he thought of them.

"I can't fight for you your whole life. You've got to put some effort, too. Don't do this to me." Harry told his uncle seriously. Remus didn't speak.

"I'm a mess." Harry announced, smiling sheepishly. "Look what I've done to her, I practically got her killed."

"No you are not a mess, and you saved her!" Remus encouraged, "Thank you." He said, smiling. "I just don't want to see my dear Nymphadora suffer..."

"She's not suffering, at all." He remarked. "She's changing her hair color every two weeks! And she's really happy, trust me."

"Can I tell her?" Remus asked. It took Harry a while to realize that he meant Casey.

"No, things are too complicated for her right now." He retorted, trying to smile.

Remus patted his back encouragingly. "The nurse thinks I'm getting a glass of water, so I better be off to the kitchens now. Don't worry, Harry, it will be alright."

"Okay, get well soon." Harry said, and chuckled as he heard Remus bark with laughter.

---

"Ginny?" Draco asked, as he entered the bedroom, his face was pale, and he felt like his heart was protruding from his chest from all its rapid beating.

"Yes, love?" She answered, quite alarmed, looking up at him. "What is it?"

"It's—" He sniffed, "Hermione. I received a call from Harry and she got rush to the hospital, she drowned, and she had no pulse for a few minutes. But Harry was able to get a heartbeat when he did CPR on her. He said she'll be okay. But I don't know." He said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You don't know how scary it was—Harry is taking this bad, even worse than I have expected, worse then I would've imagined. He's blaming everything on himself. They got into a fight and—"

"Calm down, love." Ginny's soothing voice rang in his ear. And he felt himself turn crimson red, "Hermione's a fighter. We'll get through this."

"I hope so." Draco said, turning to Ginny and kissing her. "I love you, Ginny."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I love you too."

---

_I can take care of myself._

Harry just had to smile at that. Those were potentially the last words she had said—to him, at least—and it just _had_ to be that phrase. He lets her go for a few minutes, and all of a sudden, she got herself a one-way ticket towards the bottom of the lake. She seemed to attract trouble. He pondered, what mattered most in her life was freedom, and what mattered most in his life was hapiness. But is that really all that we need?

What really _does_ matter in life?

The amount of blood in your body, and the amount you have lost?

How healthy your heart is? Cholesterol?

Number of white blood cells you have?

Oxygen?

Her voice pulled him back into reality.

"Where am I?" She asked, trying to get up from her bed.

He sat right beside her, "The hospital. What happened, Casey? Are you alright?"

"Is everybody safe?" She whispered ignoring his questioning, he watched her eyes water.

"Yes, why wouldn't they be?"

"He—he said that he'd kill all of you if I didn't go with him." She sobbed, "I was so scared." Harry felt himself tense as he saw her tears continue to roll down her face. He wasn't always good in comforting...

"So—I, I made us crash." She said, crying hysterically. "Harry, I was scared. Then all of a sudden I was in the water, and I couldn't breathe and it was cold so I—"

"Relax, breathe. Don't hyperventilate and collapse on me." Harry said calmly. "I'm really sorry, Casey. It's my fault that you're here."

"How did I get here anyway?" She asked, relaxing. "How did you find me?"

He felt himself tense. "Mitch and the guys found you." He lied, thinking that if he told the truth, he would complicate things more.

"Oh, I'll thank them later." She chirped. She felt a pit of disappointment for an odd reason, she hadn't recalled anything since she went into the water.

"I think they need to sedate you some more." He informed, quite amused, he pressed the call button.

"I don't want to be sedated. I dreamt of unicorns, rainbows, cotton candy, and monkeys." She shuddered. "Monkeys."

"You crash a car with you in it towards the woods bravely, without any second thoughts, and I find it somehow... _shocking_ on why monkeys scare you, out of all things."

She rolled her eyes. "Well if you want to go all 'technical'."

"What am I going to do with you?" He asked, looking at her.

"I don't know." She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Her tone suddenly becoming serious as she recalled the icy water on her skin, it made her shiver, but concealed it.

He smiled at her.

"Don't ever scare me like that." He said protectively. "Seriously, don't scare me."

"I'll try." She said, her voice weak, smiling sweetly at him.

"Do you forgive me?" Harry asked.

Hermione staggered.

---

"So, Antonin." Mr. Riddle began, leaning backwards in his leather chair, he crossed his legs professionally. "What do you have planned for our Miss Granger today?"

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Antonin replied, smiling deviously. He was young, probably in his 30s. His hair was a dark black color, neatly pressed to his forehead. His eyes were a dazzling shade of amber, similar to a snake's. He was muscle toned, but Mr. Riddle didn't pick him for his brawn, he needed a strategic man. Why would they be fussing over one girl? This caught his attention.

How good was Miss Granger?

"Surprise me."

---

**A/N: I don't really know how Dolohov looks like, oh well. Let's just go with my description.**

**Did you guys like it? Tell me what you think. :-D **

_**NOTE**_**:: Just so you know, Harry is the same age as Hermione in this fic. But Hermione's actually a year older than Harry in canon. If you want to know more about it, you can search about it on google . com or wikipedia . org**


	9. Visits

**A/N: Sorry for the really long wait. I just started High School a week ago and it's becoming really hectic, I barely have time, but I was too excited to continue this story, so everyday, I'd spend at least 2 hours working on this story even though the laptop kept on crashing. I'm really sorry for the wait. I hope you all bear with me.**

**Voilà!! The next chapter for "Run Away Princess"! **

**  
Please review!**

**Chapter 9: Visits**

---

Ginny banged her fist angrily on Harry's front door. There were sleepy footsteps coming from the other side. Someone opened the door.

And it wasn't Harry.

At least the Harry she knew.

He reeked of alcohol, his eyes were bloodshot. "What?" He grumbled.

"Good morning to you, too," She snapped, shoving herself past him. She walked towards the table, and set her bag on the chair. She folded her arms crossly, shooting him looks.

"It's morning already?" He asked droopily, he sat on the couch.

"What is wrong with you?" She scolded. "Casey's in the hospital without anyone to look over her. And here you are, getting yourself drunk. You passed out in a bar. A bar of all places! You're all over the news!"

"I don't care." He mumbled. "I haven't had this much fun since...well. Forever."

"I don't give a damn if you haven't had fun! What happened to you? And promise me, be decent—no alcohol!" She yelled, Harry smirked. She started to sound like his Aunt Petunia he hadn't seen since in a while. He didn't plan on seeing her anymore. Aunt Petunia and his Uncle Vernon were the nice sort of couple, until his mother's death. They started to blame Harry for an unknown reason, and treated him wrongly.

"Fine. What's wrong with me? Well, one, she almost died because of me. She's been at the hospital for six days now. Two, she forgives me. Three, Uncle Remus' chemo isn't working better than expected. Four, I think Casey likes Mitch, I mean, Mitch. Mitch, the bodyguard."

"So what if she likes Mitch? What's so wrong?" Ginny inquired, sitting beside him.

"That's what I would want to know." He sighed, Ginny of all people would understand and know the answer to why there was a sharp pain in his heart whenever he looked at Hermione, thought of Hermione, and talked to Hermione, maybe she could provide an answer.

Maybe it's a disease.

--

_**Six days ago.**_

_"Do you forgive me?" Harry asked her, staring into her deep brown eyes. He watched her eyes flicker from the heart monitor to his alluring green eyes. He was looking for the twinge of rage in her expression, he expected her to start shouting at him, calling security to throw him out._

_But she didn't._

_"Yeah," She responded, smiling at him. _

_"Don't you hate me?" He confirmed._

_"Dislike." She corrected smartly, smiling._

_"Is that good?" He asked sadly. She surprised him by her calm response. He somehow expected her to start a tantrum or something..._

_"Very."_

_It pained him for her to say that. The phrase "If you love her, set her free..." suddenly passed his tangled web of thoughts. He frowned to himself discreetly. If he continued to keep her within arm's length, something dangerous might happen. He wanted her to hate him. He wanted her to stay away. But he didn't exactly love her..._

_"I'm going now." He announced, straightening his jacket, walking towards the door. He felt her warm hand around his wrist, he cringed at what he was about to do._

_"Don't go." She pleaded._

_"I want to." He lied, "You'll be fine here."_

_"But—"_

_"I'm not good with hospitals." He confessed, but trying to put some arrogance in it, hiding his disgust in the nauseating smell of medicine and the image of his mother's dead body on a stretcher being pushed by nurses towards a room. Also his mind flashed back to the moment he was watching Sirius bleed on the street, anticipating the loud and alarming sound of the ambulance. _

_"I hate the smell." He added, he was good enough to make it sound like just another excuse from Harry Potter. He didn't quite know why he was putting such an effort on pushing her away, but maybe his plan would work. She'd somehow find him too unbearable to hang out with and she'd go with someone else in some place safer._

_Her face softened, staring at him with compassion. "Okay." She let out, facing away. "When's Draco arriving here?"_

_"I already called. He's leaving for a business trip tomorrow so Ginny's arriving in a few days." He said softly, "Bye." And his figure retreated down the white halls of the hospital._

_Hermione heaved a sigh, his emotions were like a roller coaster ride: Scary and unpredictable._

---

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Ginny scolded, her hands wrapped tightly around the roll of newspaper. "Why the hell would you push her away like that?!—Especially when she needed you the most!" She yelled, and Harry in turn received another strong blow on his side. "You don't do that to your friends! You good for nothing—"

"Hey, get off!" Harry finally said, managing to push the red-faced woman off of him. "Honestly, you and your stupid aerobics classes." He scowled at her, rubbing his sore arm.

"Oh—sod off." She concealed her smile as Harry made a disgusted face.

"Anything you want to tell me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, you just don't come here to erm... hit me."

Ginny looked hesitant for a brief moment as silence engulfed her usually cheery form, but his curious expression made her give in.

"Draco and I just got engaged."

There was an awful silence that circulated the two of them, drowning her thoughts in worry. She thought that the screaming or the "I'm so glad for you two, congratulations!" would start by now. But Harry remained still, his mouth open.

Well, that's Harry for you.

"Oh." He managed, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. The leather made little squeaking noises, making Ginny's face scrunch up in anxiety and dread.

"Congratulations." He said sheepishly, running his clammy hands through his jet black hair. "I—uh, I'm erm... Great. I'm happy for you two, really." He smiled widely at her. At the back of his mind, his father and his mother danced in a war field called his thoughts.

"Do you think that Casey could stay with you guys soon?"

"Why?" Ginny inquired, her brows creasing.

"I uh— was offered a job, really good pay for, Uncle Remus' erm, you know, since the medical bills are becoming expensive... and I'd be in and out of the house for weeks. I think the studio's in California or something. I might be shooting abroad."

"I'll see, for the mean time, I think I'd extend my vacation here for a few more days. It's been a while."

"It's only been 2 weeks, more or less." Harry explained, he remembered his conversation with Hermione almost 2 weeks ago.

She didn't hate him, and for an odd reason that made him smile.

---

Draco sat tiredly while waiting for the other passengers to load the plane. He watched his other business partners howl with laughter as they entered the first-class wing, sitting happily on the booth beside his. The eerily bouncy and happy tune of "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" made him shudder—Ginny's been changing his ring tone again. He looked around nervously as his colleagues and other businessmen turned their heads, finding the source. He heaved a sigh, and his hand flew to the inside pocket of his coat, in turn receiving sniggers from Crabbe and Goyle who were on the booth beside him, they somehow managed to grab a first-class flight to Washington D.C for kicks, and not business—and charged it on his company. He seemed impressed—they were getting smarter, now he owes $30 dollars to Blaise.

Four letters confused him—Harry. He accepted the call with caution. Harry rarely called anyone on the cell phone. He spends more money by wasting gas and driving to the person he wanted to talk to. Hell, he could even go through the wild traffic towards the airport just to speak to someone for 10 minutes.

"What?" He grumbled in a low, dangerous tone, ducking his head and leaning towards the window. He pretended to search for something.

"When are you coming back?" Harry rushed. Draco smiled as he heard high-pitched talking on the other side. Harry always asked for Draco's help whenever he was almost annoyed to death.

"I'm waiting for the other passengers to board the plane, Potter. After this flight I'll more or less be there tomorrow, got other business stuff." He replied quite dully, leaning back on his chair and refusing the champagne the stewardess offered him. She frowned slightly, but had an easy recovery as Crabbe asked for another glass. There was a heavy silence on the other end. "Is that all?" He pressed, eyebrows raised.

"Can you somehow redirect the plane to Miami? Your _wife_ misses you." He teased. "I swear if I hear the bloody word 'wedding' or 'peach' or 'church' or 'ring' again I would—"

"Hey. That's my wife you're talking about!" Draco scolded, chuckling slightly. "I'll see what I can do, please see to it that she won't do anything drastic without me."

"Like plan a wedding? Too late, she's already half-way through the bridesmaids. Do you think that the newspaper boy could be the ring bearer? She invited Gomez." he mocked and his voice cracking with laughter as he said that last statement. His voice was irritably sweet and high-pitched, impersonating Ginny.

"Gomez?"

"The gardener." Harry replied. "I didn't even know that his name was Gomez. I thought it was Mike or Ian or something. Turns out that Gomez was just his mother's surname... cause his father left and—"

"That's not something you see everyday." Draco cut him off, being nonchalant and he was starting to get restless with boredom.

"Well. Good news—I'm your best man." Harry supplied in the same tone.

"Right. As if I'd make you the best man. I think Severus would suffice." Draco snorted, more passengers started to board the plane.

"Severus? That old fart? Why him?" He sounded offended, but Draco wasn't sure on how genuine it was.

"He is my financial adviser! He was very essential to the company, he practically taught me on all there is to know about Malfoy Inc." He replied smartly, thinking on how Severus was very much like a father to him.

"Financial adviser, my ass. Severus in something other than those... weird clothes? Are you _serious_?" Harry asked, sounding disgusted. "He's always in black, and I don't think he'd be able to wear periwinkle blue—don't ask, Ginny thought of it—in a church."

"I am serious, but I don't know about periwinkle blue, I don't think that I could walk down the aisle to 'Crazy for You'. She bugged me about it last night. I thought traditional weddings were... Alright. But yes, I am serious and I will see you soon if you stop bothering me." Draco said in a dangerous mock tone

"Do you think that Snape would wear black to the—" Harry began, but Draco cut him off in mid-sentence, and snapped his phone shut.

Draco leaned back on his chair for a moment of peace.

---

The sun peers through the windows, and Hermione's eyes squint. She finds herself still in her hospital gown, and under the thin sheets of the cold, hard, bed that smells oddly like ointment and alcohol. A nurse is sitting across her, setting her breakfast on the table. She reaches her cold hands towards the biscuit and nibbles on it cautiously as more doctors fill in the room to have a look at her.

"Uhm, I think I can go now." She announced, smiling nervously at the tired but good looking person dressed in white staring back at her. He looked in his thirties and the ring around his finger proved that he was settled down already, which is good. His glasses were slightly askew when he looked around for her chart. He ran his pale hands through his auburn hair, with a look of distress on his face when his hazel colored eyes reached the bottom of the page.

"What is it?" Hermione pressed, "Can't I leave? I've been on observation for six days now and I am sure that I can go."

"First of all, Miss Barrett, I am Doctor Fuller, sorry for my manners since I haven't introduced myself until now. I'm a little tired, you see."

She nods, _he looks tired_ and anticipates for a 'Yes, you can go now.'

"Mr. Potter here..." he begins, and shoots Hermione a look as she throws her head back on the bed, groaning. He raises his eyebrows at her.

"Go on." She supplied, staring at the ceiling.

"He asked us to keep you in observation for at least a week. By tomorrow you would be able to go."

"Please, I need to go now. Call him up or something." She pleaded. It's been six bloody days since she stretched out her legs and got a little exercise other than punching the buttons of the TV Remote.

"Uhm, I don't think that it's Hospital policy—"

"Harry asked me to bring her home." Mitch butts in, walking through the door in perfect timing as Hermione shoots him a grateful look. He brings a different ambience to the room. He's wearing a 'Black Sabbath' T-Shirt today, some faded jeans and his sneakers. For a brief moment Hermione forgot that he was her undercover body guard. People have been thinking that they're just good friends.

"Oh, is that so? Uhm, we'll take a few more hours for her last check-up and finalizing the release forms." Dr. Fuller smiles at them, and leaves the room. Mitch waltzes in and takes a seat on the plastic chair across her bed.

"Thank God for your perfect timing." Hermione thanks, while taking a scoop from her pudding.

"You're supposed to eat the waffle before the dessert, you know."

"Pssh." She said, rolling her eyes.

He smiled at her, as she continued to eat. "So, Black Sabbath today, huh?" Her chocolate covered lips mumbled, she grabbed a piece of tissue and dabbed it on them. He nodded once.

"Are you angry or something?" she implores. "Cause yesterday you were wearing pink and you were unusually hyper."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He says, and she smiles gratefully. "A somewhat weird and unusually random but—true, compliment."

"Oh." She said, relieved. "Is Harry really going to pick me up?" She tried to sound nonchalant.

Mitch said nothing and left the room, Hermione tilted her head slightly, to see that Mitch was calling someone on the cell phone, looking somewhat nervous. She burst into delicate giggles.

---

_"What?" _

That was Harry's first reaction. Mitch waited patiently for a second.

_"Why on earth would you do that?"_ Harry pressed.

"Others are being suspicious..." he began.

_"Fine. I'm picking her up today. You can have a day off if you like." _He replied. Mitch heard the loud music stop, as well as the sounded of car keys jingling.

"I'll escort her home, if that would be okay, then I could go out for a while." He suggested, taking a seat on a chair.

_"Right." _Harry agreed, and then a dull beeping sound came from the other line. Mitch smiled to himself and placed it back in his pocket.

---

"78 bottles of champagne on the wall, 78 bottles of champagne! You take one down and turn it around, 77 bottles of champagne on the wall!"

"Ginny." Harry warned. "It's _beer._ And stop singing! I can't stand driving us to the hospital with you in the car. I should call the driver."

"No." She chirped. "77 bottles of champagne on the wall... 77 bottles of champagne..."

"For the love of God, shut. The. Hell. Up." He begged, and Ginny laughed mockingly at him.

"Fine." She huffed, crossing her arms tightly around her chest. There was a moment of silence between them as she pondered her schedule for the day.

"99 bottles of medicine on the wall. 99 bottles of medicine. You take one down and—"

"GINNY!" Harry's annoyed voice boomed throughout the car. She laughed to herself.

---

"You ready?" Harry asked Hermione who was dressed in her everyday clothing. Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail and she smelled of antibiotics.

A familiar scent.

"Since six days ago." She grunted angrily, and her arm unconsciously finds safety around his as they walk towards the car. She felt the soft wind wrap around them, making his hair messier as the sweet breeze swept through the two, she felt content as a cloud of peace and silence hovered above. She coughed as dry air entered her lungs and shivered slightly. And soon a black figure disrupted her vision. She stifled a shriek. Instead a tiny squeal escaped her lips. Her hands grabbed the material steadily, removed it from view and she examined it, to find out that Harry had tossed his jacket to her carelessly, and managed to slip from her grip—as he was approximately 3 feet away from her now. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she held, and she wrapped his jacket around her. And she found herself taking in his alluring smell of his musky cologne.

"We're nearly there." He announced dully, as a black car appeared in sight.

She nodded—even if she was behind him. She saw the familiar red-head in the car, she inferred that Ginny was apparently listening to music or reading something, a wedding magazine, perhaps.

"Here." Harry offered, opening the back door wide enough for her. She climbed in softly, and he went in after her. He sat on the other side, putting more than enough distance between them.

"Where's Mitch?" Hermione asked, and noticed how Ginny shot Harry a worried look. She heard him whisper 'What? Oh—shut up.'

"Here." Mitch smiled, entering the front seat, as Ginny who previously occupied it moved beside Hermione. Harry nodded towards the driver, who pressed on the gas pedal and drive them home. Harry inconveniently found himself sitting next to Hermione thanks to Ginny.

Hermione remained silent as Ginny continued her "99 Bottles of Things I Don't Know but Would Sure Love to Toss Them Down Song", Harry turned on the rock music and kept arguing with her to stop her wretched singing, and Mitch having a conversation with the driver. She felt out of place.

She tried to drown out the noise, just for a second, she tried to concentrate on something, _someone_ to help her. But her thoughts kept finding their way to the man beside her, the car was unusually small, either that or Ginny was taking up too much space—Hermione and Harry were pressed against each other uncomfortably, their distance consisted of centimeters and she could hear his steady breathing—He was apparently shouting at Ginny. His voice was somewhat soothing, _controlled_—a feat she hadn't discovered in him until now. She was unusually glad that the last thing she heard was his irritated voice as she was soon engulfed in a black mist. Why? She didn't know.

"Wake up, dear." Ginny's soothing voice welcomed her back into reality. "We're here."

"Hmm?" Hermione stirred, waking up from her slumber—she didn't know that she had fallen asleep. They started leaving the car, one by one. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. Begging to no one in particular for a few more moments of peace—an extension for the calm before the storm. There was always something chaotic happening when you put Harry and Ginny in the same room together. The mere car ride was more than enough evidence.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." Harry's soft and distant voice could be heard from inside, also his faint knocking. She looked up, the car was now empty. The driver, George, was sitting on a bench a few feet away, smoking a cigarette.

"Casey." He called again.

Hermione looked up, somehow expecting him to smile smugly at her like he always did, his eyes dancing with amusement, also his arms folded across his chest.

But he wasn't. He wasn't there. The only thing she saw was his figure retreating from her sight, towards their new home. Home. That sounded good. _Great._

---

She took tired and slow steps towards the large house in front of her, passing a few trees and sculptures. She expected Harry to tease her, do anything for that matter, his neutral behavior was strangely alarming, but why would she care? For all she knew, he could be in the other side of the world and she's wouldn't care—that was what she kept telling herself, but it sounded unconvincing. She ignored Ginny's calls towards the dining room to have a cup of tea, and found refuge on an old wooden swing under the tree next to the swimming pool. She plopped down and managed a heavy sigh.

"Home, sweet home." She breathed, lying down on the wooden bench that continued to swing, and closed her eyes. Smelling the sweet air she had missed so much.

She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Her cinnamon colored eyes fluttered open, looking up. She intended to stare up at the sky.

To find herself staring deeply on a certain pair of tantalizing emerald eyes.

Harry stared back at those beautiful eyes. The wind was blowing softly, and had the sudden urge to kiss her.

---

**A/N: Did you guys like it? Thank you to all my reviewers! Without you guys this story would be rotting away. LOL. Haha. So please bear with me once again as I try to update sooner.**


	10. The First Moment

**A/N: Hello, sorry for the long wait and the suspense. Hehe. Been busy, that's all. I hope you guys will enjoy this. I've been really excited to put this up **

**Chapter 10: The First Moment**

---

Harry was drowning in her eyes, totally mesmerized.

He had the sudden urge to kiss those lips or hers, close the gap, and finally kiss Casey Barrett, the lovely and alluring woman he had known for nearly a month. He wanted to snog her senseless under the welcoming shade of the maple tree and run his hands through her soft hair, with the wind blowing against them. He longed for her kiss—her touch. It was exactly like one of the scenes in the movies he'd done. But something entirely different at the same time, he felt anticipation, yearning for _her_ lipsand her lips only. It all seemed so clear to him—he was right then and there, inches away from her—but with every single breath he took, hundreds more of questions ran through his head, screaming one thing altogether.

_Back away._

And his tiny voice saying _"But I want to." _Was drowned out by the crowd of voices warning him. _"Back away, Harry, and no one gets hurt."_ He didn't know on which kind of hurting they would experience—rather why there was such a threatening and sadistic trait to the voices in his head—but his mind wondered on the physical part, and everything faltered.

It was odd on how they got into this predicament. He only recalled going outside for some fresh air as Ginny had a break to the bathroom, and he decided to scare her. He planned to scare the living hell out of her.

But plans backfire, and there he was, longing to close the gap between them.

He felt like hours have passed by while they were in this position. In truth they were only like that for seconds.

---

"Harry?" Hermione's fragile voice rang in his ear, snapping him from his thoughts. Her soothing voice drummed his ears, and made his head throb with wonder and lightheadedness. It was only now that he realized the distance, he could feel her hot breath on his lips, and it made his spine tingle.

"Uhm," She began, and started nibbling on her bottom lip. "Could you uhm—"

"Oh—yes. Of course." He rushed, standing up quickly. His hand started running over his jet black hair nervously. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I—uh, tripped." He reasoned, "It was uhm, Sirius."

"Really? I didn't hear him, you see..." She felt a bit nervous and ridiculous, for a moment she thought that they were going to kiss.

"It's because you're always asleep." He grunted, turning his crimson colored face away from her. "I mean, you could outdo Sleeping Beauty—in means of sleeping, you know." He hastily added. He didn't want to look like he was complimenting her, even if he was, subtly.

"Sod off, jerk." She retorted, rolling her eyes at him. She started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked, Hermione's laughter was reduced to snorts. She smiled at him and shook her head sideways.

"Don't be so glum," He retorted sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest. He smiled smugly at her. "Want to watch a movie or something? Ginny wanted to..." He added hastily.

She smiled widely at him, and for a moment he felt his breathing escalate. The sheer thought that he almost kissed those lips smiling at him made him feel a pang of guilt in the bottom of his stomach, churning and twisting his insides into a delicate pretzel.

"Nah." She waves her hand in the air, gesturing that she's fine. "I think I'll have some snack first..."

"Oh—sure." He replied nervously. "So, what do you have in mind—"

"DRACO!" Hermione shrieked, running towards the blonde man who was passing through the glass sliding door towards the garden. She engulfed him in a tight hug, almost setting him off balance. Her arms were tightly around his torso, "I thought you'd be here two days from now! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"Understatement of the year." Harry muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes discreetly at Hermione.

"Hey, man. I thought you're flight was on Wednesday?" He asked Draco calmly, walking towards them. His hands found solace in the pockets of his faded pair of jeans. Draco smiled at him smugly. "I was afraid of what Ginny might've been doing. So I rescheduled."

"Oh... Well then, it's good to have you back." Harry added, giving a one-arm hug. "I should be going now."

"Where?" Hermione piped in, looking up at him. He felt his annoyance for her falter, but returned as soon as she paid attention to Sirius when he was about to open his mouth. He suddenly felt rage sweep through him as she started paying attention to his dog, he dismissed the feeling, it's just a 'hangover' from that moment. It'll pass. He kept telling himself that.

"California. I have to do a shooting, for the sequel of Dean Thomas' movie, they just called this morning." He replied, nonchalant. He addressed his answers to Draco, as he had come to the judgment that Hermione wouldn't be paying any attention at all. "I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'll have to pack right now."

"How long will you be gone?" Hermione's voice startled him. He looked down on the lady sitting cross-legged on the ground, patting Sirius' head. It took him a while to realize that she was listening to him the whole time. He mentally slapped himself for feeling slightly jealous of Sirius. Come on—he's a dog.

"A few weeks, months." He said, looking elsewhere.

"Oh." She's breathless, letting the thought of weeks, maybe months without his presence sink in. "_Oh_." She repeated, her hand giving one last pat on Sirius' head. She looked down to her thumbs, and for a millisecond, Draco witnessed the tension between them, a smirk was plastered on his face almost instantly.

"Don't be so sad, 'Mione." Draco soothed, rubbing his hand on her shoulder, and Hermione looked up at him, a look of alarm on her face. _He did not just say that, oh God, he did not just say that. _She felt his hands turn clammy, and he looked at her in apology and gave her the 'holy-shit-I-didn't-mean-to' look.

"'Mione?" Harry asked, suddenly confused.

"Uhm. Yeah, that's my nickname. I played a girl uh—named, erm. 'Mione in a—uhm, a, a school play, Draco's been teasing me ever since." She reasoned quickly, laughing nervously.

"Hmm, Mione? Like Hermione?" Harry questioned, rubbing his hand over his chin. "That's funny, I knew a Hermione back home. Yeah, she's pretty famous there. Been lost for years though she was a really pretty girl back then, and now I don't know how she looks like, others thought she was dead. But it's good to know that she's alive and stuff, all over the papers a few weeks ago. Complete mayhem, if you ask me, the media got wild."

She held her breath. "What were they about?"

"They just found her, no specifications. She's somewhere in America though. But rumor has it that she's at Europe. Damn lucky, wish I could've done that, must be having the time of her life." He added, gazing out into the wonderful view of the city seen from the backyard, it wasn't so hot anymore, since the wind started to blow through them in delicate whispers. She felt blood pump to her head, and her heart was pounding furiously, she started to wonder if its beating could be heard from miles away.

"How do you know her, anyway?" She asked, and Draco nudged her, _'Quit it, stop asking'_ he whispered to her.

"My dad forced me to be one of the 'candidates' to marry her 7 years ago. Can you believe that she's being forced to do that? And it's the 21st century now." He almost whispered in disbelief. "But I didn't push through with it, 'Too stubborn' he told me." He added, laughing. Hermione fell silent, and for a moment she felt like her head was whirling in answerless questions. He was supposed to marry her. How come she hadn't known the Potters, then?

"Anyway, there was this masquerade ball, and the next day, we were supposed to reveal ourselves, sort of 'take of the mask' " His hands gestured two quote marks in the air. "But, as I said, didn't push through." Harry added, he took a glance at his watch and shot the two of them a guilty look. "Listen, guys, I've got to pack my things now..."

"Oh—sure, sure. Go ahead." Draco said in Hermione's behalf, since she her jaw was dropped open. Harry noticed this and his trademark smirk formed on his face.

"May jaw would drop ten times lower than that if I heard you were being forced to marry, you know." He retorted sarcastically, laughing. "Come on, snap out of it, any minute now a fly could get in and—"

"Ew." She complained looking at him. "That's disgusting." He waved to them and hurried off inside. Hermione was still silent.

Draco felt her muscles relax and break free from tension. "It's alright, Casey." He repeated, running his hands up and down her quivering back.

---

The night glistened with thousands of stars dancing beautifully like dots of light on a dark purple colored canvas. Hermione sighed to herself, the night hasn't been this beautiful in days. She's been outside with Sirius for hours, now. And he was becoming restless, shoving toy bones on her lap, asking her to play fetch or throw a Frisbee. But her thoughts were running on how long months and weeks could be. Before she knew it, there were tears welling up in her eyes. She was going to miss him, miss his stupid remarks, cocky attitude and everything she hated about him—that was a fact.

"You okay?" said a familiar voice, she nodded quietly, and a pair of hands were securely on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Casey. It already happened, there's no reason to cry over it anymore... I promise, you'll be fine. You won't have to go through anything like that anymore." Harry voice was sad, and concerned, his emerald eyes were staring at her, waiting for a response.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused, finally looking back at him.

"The accident, right?" He confirmed, raising an eyebrow. "Things like those could be traumatizing..."

_"Uncle Sirius! Come on, hang in there, the ambulance will be here any minute!" An eleven year old Harry pleaded over his uncle's body. He was covered in blood, and a crowd was forming around them. His uncle was slowly losing color and warmth. Sirius looked up at him, and smiled. Harry watched him, and soon he was gone._

"I guess." She replied.

_"Dad." Harry said, into his mobile phone. "Mom... She... She..." he couldn't continue as tears went leaking from his eyes. A few minutes after that, a car parked up in front of the door, and James came rushing in, and saw Harry. His first reaction was to hug his son, and his second reaction was to distance himself from him—his eyes just reminded him of Lily. His sweet, Lily, gone forever._

"So don't worry about it..." He added.

_Harry stared down at the card, it read: 'Dr. James Preston, Oncologist.' And listed on it were his contact numbers and his office address. He looked up at the doctor who gave him the business card. "What does Remus have to do with an oncologist? Why on earth does he have to go to an oncologist? Do they have information that can help Remus stop the bruising?"_

_The doctor nodded sadly, frowning. He said nothing more, and Harry immediately understood. He stole a glance at Remus who was excitedly chatting to Tonks, they were to be married next week._

"I'm fine. It's not that, anyway. I'm just, oh, I don't know." She said, a tear was rolling down her cheek.

"Don't cry. Come on, let it out. It's okay." Harry encouraged, "We all go through things like that in our lives, it's part of life."

Hermione's mind wandered on his departure. The unexplainable sadness hovering above her like a black cloud. Harry's arm went around her shoulder. A few traitor tears rolled down her cheeks.

_Too true, too true._

---

"So, I was planning to make her go back to London on her own will, perhaps do something to make her return—the execution will probably take a few weeks. But I have no intention of doing something as idiotic as McNair's, he's the cause why business has been so slow. What we're doing is illegal—if we kidnap her, I mean. So it would be best to make her return on her own will, the Grangers are only new to what we do, who knows what they could do, or to whom they would report to. Besides, if she does it on her own free will, it lessens the paper work." Antonin explained, after his boss gave him a week to think about what to do.

"Antonin, after all your years working with me, I am surprised that you do know me well enough." Tom Riddle's long fingers coiled around the arm rest. Antonin anticipated for an answer. Tom leaned in, his coal black eyes staring straight at him.

"Illegal is what we do."

---

"So, you're leaving, huh." Hermione asked, looking at him while they were having dinner. Ginny and Draco discreetly shot each other looks, unfortunately she noticed. Probably having mental conversations, she told herself.

"Yes, Casey." Harry sighed, this was the twentieth time she had asked him that. He drove his fork through the bite size piece of fish fillet, and popped it into his mouth.

"Oh." She said, for the twentieth time, staring down at her hands and gave everyone at the table a look. "Excuse me." She managed, running up the stairs. He shrugged, and continued eating.

"You idiot! Run after her!" Ginny hissed, he rolled his eyes at her.

"Potty! Go!" Draco chimed in, he set down his fork down on his plate.

The table fell silent. "If she wanted to be excused, then let her." He said, bored and he got up from the table, climbed his side of the stairs. But felt ashamed as he found himself taking a secret route and now inches away from Hermione's room. He stood in front of her door, and sighed. He slouched and returned to his room.

Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

---

Rita Skeeter was in her usual work clothes, her silky green button down top, and her black skirt. She was wearing her red high-heeled, pointed shoes. She adjusted her green rimmed glasses so that it would sit on the bridge of her nose. Her boss had just assigned her to write another article for their magazine. It was eleven o'clock at night time, and she was still typing away on her laptop. She pressed the internet browser icon, and went to the search engine.

'Casey Barrett' she typed, and found not only pictures of her, but articles concerning her 'secret relationship' with Harry Potter. Of course she had suspected this from the very start, but was puzzled, what did Harry have to do with her? She was scanning the results, and found a picture of Harry hugging her on the backyard in a Miami house on top of a hill, overlooking the city. That's odd, what was he doing in a house that a red head and a blonde man had recently moved into?

A devilish grin crept up her face as she started typing her article...

_"Could Harry Potter, the young, hot actor be tying the knot already?"_ was the starting line. As the style didn't appeal much to her, the editor requested lines that would appeal to the population. She continued typing.

_Harry Potter and woman named Casey Barrett, age 23, was found sharing an intimate moment in a Miami beach house, could they be married? Appears so. Harry, who recently turned 23 last July, looks like he will be missing his 'wife' terribly as he will be shooting for the sequel of Dean Thomas' international hit movie, 'The Dreamer', where Harry Potter returns as Jack Pike who will be trying to save the world for the second time 'round, with the sensational 26-year-old Fleur Delacour as Brooke Stelling, his leading woman. He was reported to be seen walking with Casey and going out around Miami a few weeks ago, and the media's been looking for them and wanting to know about them ever since. Well, you're in luck. Because we, The Daily Prophet, are the only ones who have the inside scoop for you, ah, young love._

Rita continued typing, and she was sure to get a pay raise after this. Not that she needed it.

And when the night was over, she had produced 4 pages about Harry and Casey, complete with pictures and quotes from his interviews. While waiting for the article to print, she went into the bathroom and took a light shower. She emerged from the bathroom in her bathrobe and her blond hair curled around plastic rollers. She stared happily at the pages that were already lying on her desk.

This story will sell.

---

"So, tell me." Richard Granger began. "James, is your son Harry ready to be engaged to Lady Isabella? I think I've given you enough time to think this through."

"No, I don't think so. I'm not interested, and I am sure that he is not interested, either." James replied, smiling. "It's fine, we can wait."

---

Harry once again found himself walking towards Hermione's room. He finally mustered the courage to at least knock on the door. He knocked once. Twice. Three times. And he heard loud sniffing from inside.

"Who is it?" Her sweet voice asked.

"It's me." He replied, tired. He stole a glance towards the clock, and it read 12:00 am. "Hello?" He asked, knocking once more. "Casey, let me in."

Silence.

"Are you crying?" He pressed, and his right hand found it's way towards the doorknob, _Damn, locked._ Another silence. "Casey—please. Right now. Don't make me take down this door."

"In a minute."

And in five, Hermione opened her door. And she found Harry waiting, when she saw him, tears started forming in her eyes again. She didn't want him to leave. What if something happens? Or what if something happens to Remus and Tonks without him? What if...?

"Are you crying?" He asked, stepping closer. She stubbornly shook her head.

He took her into his arms. _The hell with staying away_. He couldn't help but smirk—he felt her teardrops all over his shirt, as if on cue, Draco came trotting down the hallway. His loud footsteps alarmed Hermione, and she tried to jerk away, but his arm kept her from breaking free from their hug. "Shh." Harry whispered into her ear. "It's alright." She relaxed.

"What are you guys doing?" Draco asked, approaching them.

"What does it look like we're doing?" Harry snorted and raised an eyebrow, his tone was nonchalant, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, Draco smirked, and then returned to his room.

"Are you ready to go inside?" He asked her, she nodded once. It took Harry only a few seconds to find the couch and take a seat. Hermione was still, in the middle of the room, she was fiddling with her bracelet again, and she nibbled on her bottom lip. He watched her closely, and he tried to guess what was wrong. She looked confused, and sad. He didn't even know what impelled him to suddenly have her as company. "Are you okay? Listen Casey, I know it's frustrating to not remember what happened during the accident, but as I said, we can't do anything anymore...It already happened—"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"You'd think I was stupid."

"Depends. Maybe I could help."

"Please don't leave. I don't want you to leave." She blurted out, and Harry was taken aback, he hadn't expected this at all. He stared down on his hands, and busied himself by being interested on his fingernails. He felt impelled to tell her. He looked up at her. All the words he just wanted to say weren't going out right—his throat dried, and he was absolutely speechless, clueless as to what to say.

"Oh. Casey, it's not like I can do anything about that."

"I know." She replied stiffly.

"Do you want to stay with me in my room?"

Hermione contemplated, and for the first time that night she smiled at him, because of him, and the thought that he of all people who would make her do so what like an alien feeling, but she enjoyed it. There was a silence hovering above them, engulfing them in another alien awkward moment. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed the foreign feeling she felt. She enjoyed the feeling she was getting used to and would soon grow to love. Not to hate. Never to hate.

"Sure." She replied, smiling, she took his hand that was offered to her, and they were walking hand in hand, towards the other side of the house. Their fingers intertwined.

During that moment of peace, neither cared if the other was a jackass or a brat or whatever. During that moment:

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter liked each other.

---

"I'll be back before you know it, Remus, Ginny, Draco, Tonks." Harry addressed, giving each of them a hug. He was in a black shirt and jeans, he put his jacket over his top and wore his cap. He looked alarmed when he heard the van arrived. He looked at Hermione, who was awkwardly standing oddly far from the group. The distance between them seemed to grow by the second, and he felt like he was walking on water when he was walking towards her.

"Bye." He managed, and gave an awkward one-arm hug. He felt his cheeks burn, but he looked down, and waved goodbye.

He closed the door behind him, and started walking towards the van, inside, he saw Fleur Delacour. She smiled at him, and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"Hello, Harry." She said to him, "It's good to see you again. Are you up for the next movie?"

"Always." He replied, grinning. "So what's going to happen in the sequel?"

"Well, first of all, according to Dean, Jake and Brooke are going to get together in this one."

Harry took a few seconds to think that through, and the words _Casey, Fleur_ and _movie _kept repeating in his head, he shook it discreetly. "Awesome. So that means a lot of interviews and promotional posters for us."

"Exactly. We're going to have fun on this one." She chirped perkily, clapping her hands in joy.

"I know, Dean really is—oh, Fleur, watch your step—" He told her, while he grabbed her hand and helped her inside the car, she smiled to him in gratitude as the car started moving. "As I was saying, Dean really knows what he's doing."

"Precisely."

The ride was rather exciting, Harry seeing his friends and old cast mates reminded him of a school reunion he never had the opportunity to enjoy. He enjoyed speaking with them, after the very long 6 month break. They arrived at an already crowded hangar, where they were going to board Dean's private jet. Fans were lined up by the fences, holding banners and posters, screaming. Harry felt his heart beat speed up once he heard them, screaming his name, Fleur's, Seamus Finnigan's...

"Harry, Fleur, you have to look really fond of each other once we go out of the car now." The publicist said to them, she was in her business suit and her flip phone was pressed tightly to her ear. "It would look nice if you escorted her aboard."

"Sure. You ready?" Harry asked, offering his hand.

At the instant their two feet touched the ground, blinding lights surrounded them, but since they were once of the best on-screen couples (aside from Cho), they have gotten used to the routine. Smile, laugh, walk through the crowd patiently and casually perhaps sign a few autographs on the way, whisper a few jokes from time to time, hold hands when necessary...

Fleur was waving hello to all the fans, as they started nearing the stairs leading to the jet's door, a few bodyguards came gushing out and helped them aboard. They were greeted by wooden walls, roomy cream colored couches, and matching carpets. There was a huge TV screen and some consoles in the lounge. And when you turn right, you'd be introduced to 8 chairs, each equipped with a TV and laptop and 3 bathrooms, on the room across the lavatories, was a spare bedroom, housing around 3 beds. He cringed as he started reliving memories that he and Cho had shared in that very room...

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, plopping down on a couch by the lounge. He flipped on the TV, and started switching channels.

"Where'd you get that?" Harry asked, gesturing towards Seamus' glass.

"Want some, mate?" He offered, bringing out a silver flask from inside his coat pocket.

"Oh—what the hell, sure." He gave in, grabbing Seamus' flask and having a go. It tasted good, it tasted strong. "Wow." He breathed, "Pretty strong stuff you got there."

"I mixed the drink myself, pretty great, eh? Dean's gonna have a fit." He laughed, Harry laughed with him absently, his thoughts kept returning to Casey.

---

A few days later, Harry and his co-stars checked in a hotel, and others decided to rent out a flat since Dean had added a few more weeks to the production. Making him staying there for a total of four months—actually Harry, Fleur and Viktor Krum were extended, since they were the main characters. But each actor was entitled a few weeks vacation. The start of the shooting had become pretty tiresome, because they had started off with the harder scenes. Harry always anticipated the first few days to be hard, he still hasn't memorized his script yet.

It's been a while since Hermione settled down into a good book. She was too caught up with the events that she had forgotten of her favorite past time—Reading. But no matter how many pages she read, or how many books she finished or how many days she'd spend cooped up in her room, she still couldn't stop thinking of him. She tried to _not_ think of him because she thought that thinking of him would be silly.

She tried reading other books, but one book she had picked up was about a man named Henry, which was close to his name. So she tried another, only to find out that the man's name was Howard. She tried another, James. She tried another, but the author's name was Harry. She tried another, Hank. Every book she picked up reminded her of him and she decided that when Harry would return, she would give him a good smack on the head for being conceited enough to buy books similar to his name. Even though that obviously was a coincidence.

"Hermione?" Ginny called, as she let herself in. Hermione was sitting on her bed, reading a book, she finally found a decent book. She looked up at her best friend, "Hmm? You need anything?"

"Just checking on you." She replied.

"I'm fine Ginny, don't mind me."

"Saw Harry on TV today."

"Oh, really. Okay."

"I know you care."

"Why would I? I really don't care if he's been on TV or not, I just saw him a few days ago."

"I hated what Fleur was wearing." 

"I know—the poncho was ridiculous, as well as the shades. She looked like a mutated bumblebee." She replied, her voice nonchalant as her nose scrunched up in disgust.

"AHA! I knew you watched him!" Ginny accused, her manicured finger pointing at Hermione, she watched her bestfriend turn into a brilliant shade of pink, and look away.

"No I didn't," She lied, burying her head further into her book. She'd been staring at the same page since Ginny had come in. She better lock her door next time...

"I know you did."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"Whatever you say, Ginny."

---

After a long silence, Harry finally heard Ginny's voice again. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, water from his damp hair dripped from his forehead to his brows, and he brushed them away.

"Well?" He asked, dreading what she was about to say.

"She saw you on TV."

"_Damnit_." He muttered. "Everything?"

"Yes, dear, _everything._" She told him.

"Even the Fleur part?"

"Oh, you mean the flirting part? Well—yes. She found your on-screen girlfriend hideous, though."

"She's not my on-screen girlfriend, I was just being friendly."

"Too friendly, if you ask me."

"Bye Ginny, I've got to go." Harry replied, and snapped his phone shut. And placed it on the table beside him. He walked back on set, and Dean, Seamus, Viktor and the producer, Oliver Wood were all giving him nasty looks. Fleur was talking animatedly to her sister, who was visiting them.

"Took you long enough." Oliver commented. "You ready?"

"Yes." He replied.

"Okay," Oliver sighed, he set back on his chair and borrowed the megaphone. Harry walked to the middle of the set, and Fleur joined him. "Jake/Brooke kissing scene. Take 3."

"You ready?" Asked Fleur.

"Of course I am." He replied, smiling.

---

**A/N: Sorry for the really long wait! I hope this chapter makes up for it. I've got a lot of great ideas for the next few chapters. I hope you guys like it, please review.**


	11. Weddings and First Times

**A/N: Here's another long chapter, sorry for the long wait. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. :)**

**Chapter 11: Weddings and First Times**

---

His memory was just as fresh as day.

James Potter hung idly around the halls of his home, looking at the photographs lined up in front of him. There were pictures of Harry, Lilly, and only a few of Penelope. She didn't mind. She understood, sometimes, at least. His eyes fell on his favorite picture of his son, he had his head in a pail, laughing as he held a melted chocolate bar, chocolate dripped from his small fist to his clothes, and landing into the burning sand. His green eyes were shining into the camera. His cheeks were flushed, and his 5 year old son was in the swimming trunks that James had given to him on his birthday. He remembered the morning with joy, Harry was curious to see what was inside the pail and as he held it high in the air to have a look, the sand fell all over him.

_"Daddy! I feel like the Sandman now! Rooar!"_ Little Harry cried, raising his arms up in the air. _"Dad! Dad! Look at me! I'M THE SANDMAN! Dad! Get off the phone! Look! I'm the sandman!"_

James chuckled to himself. That line still got him. He loved the times where his baby boy was so innocent, loving, persistent and well... A kid. Although it was unfortunate that he had got so caught up in his work that it took him longer than everyone else to notice that Harry was no longer into action figures, or walky talkies or helicopters at the age of eleven. He was having his first crush on their neighbor, Harry always watched her play with her dog through his bedroom window. _Like father like son._ James told himself, _Just like me and Lily._

It was one of his first times in a private school, too. James had finally gained enough money to send him there. Harry came home in his maroon uniform, his backpack slung over his shoulder, drenched in mud and bits of leaves stuck in his hair, his lunch always gone. James had guessed that his son was just a plain, energetic boy who liked to play near the woods. He had no clue whatsoever that he was being bullied daily. Hence the lost lunch, his appearance, and his malnutrition. His son had a few friends, and usually hung out with his old pal Neville Longbottom and on very rare occasions, he went out to play with Ron Weasley, who was a prince.

And then shortly after that, Sirius died. And it tore apart Harry's poor soul, traumatized him as well, he didn't sleep or eat or talk for days. Sirius was Harry's role model, he was an excellent comedian, he did interesting and odd jobs he loved. He was always moving and traveling. Paris one week, Germany the next. He always came home bringing whatever Harry wanted, and spoiled him like he was his own son. They were close. Sometimes James left Harry in Sirius' care. More often than necessary, he had to admit.

James grieved for his best friend, and he was never quite been the same. He spent his nights at bars, expecting, and waiting for his messy haired friend to come in and announce some plan or adventure that would set sail that night. But his friend was never there, and at one incident, James had forgotten that Lily would come home from work late, and there would be no one to watch over Harry 5pm onwards. But he went to the bar, somehow expecting, more like waiting for his comrade to intervene his sob fest and cheer him up.

Lily was obviously angered at her husband for leaving their twelve year old son at home. But Harry was a responsible, decent child. And he would've known better. James had his full trust in him. At times that he would screw up, he somehow expected Harry to take charge in behalf of his old man.

"Drinking is not the solution, James." Lily scolded him, and he felt his eyes burn with fresh tears. He didn't know what came over him, he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or just himself. He hugged his wife tightly, and started to sob. Lily smiled at him reassuringly, and her slender fingers ran up and down his back, soothing him. Soon, she was crying, too, for Sirius. And not long after that, James felt a pair of arms engulf them too.

"I didn't want him to go." Harry cried, sniffing.

"I know, dear. But he's at a better place now." Lily soothed.

"I know." He replied.

And at that moment, he was at awe. He idolized his son. He was stronger than he ever hoped to be.

The family lived happily, and healed from the loss of their friend, and only six years after that, his Lily was taken away from him. James eyes fell on the picture of him and his wife, they were at Remus' house for Christmas. Lily's hair was messy, and blowing in the wind, her green eyes shining. She was absolutely beautiful. She was wearing the old beige coat she was always wearing the same day they met. It was a lucky charm, she told him.

He remembered the moment, the exact moment when Lily died, the family died as well. He and Harry stopped talking, mostly due to the fact that James had divulged himself too much in work to ever care anymore. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was forcing his son to get married at the tender age of 17, or at least be a candidate for marriage—he was always a stubborn boy, who took after his father, no doubt. Mistake number three was disowning him, mistake number four was never caring about what Harry said of Penelope, and marrying only a few years after Lily's death.

He was a man of mistakes, and it didn't take him long to realize that.

James glanced at the green telephone sitting on the table. A call wouldn't hurt.

There were a few number of rings, and then he heaved a sigh of relief as he heard his son answer.

"Oh. Hey dad, what do you want?"

He seemed appalled, he vividly remembered insulting his son, and disowning him. A rush of guilt swept through him, making his eyes water. He didn't want to be that man he didn't know. He wanted to be James. Just James.

"Hey, son."

---

"Unbelievable." Draco sighed, his jaw dropped, and eyes wide. "He actually said that? When?"

"Yes, Draco, three days ago. It was... different." Harry confessed. "I'm sorry I told you only now, things were just hectic." He sat down on his couch, lifting his legs and letting them rest on the coffee table. He flipped on the television, and became interested in the James Bond movie.

"Bloody hell it was! He's been mistreating you since... you know, and I don't get what he's doing right now. Maybe he's trying to get you to do something. And by the way, it's alright."

"Maybe. He told me that he'd not be home for a week. It's weird, really. I never knew that he'd gone to Paris for three months last summer. Remus told me. I didn't even know that he was shagging Penelope until I received the invitation to their wedding." Harry sighed, and brushed a piece of foam from his shirt.

"You're becoming a tad bit harsh, but I guess that would be my reaction too, if my father was doing the same thing. I guess we should see where this is going." Draco suggested.

"How is Remus?" He asked, hoping that the treatment improved.

"He's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I am."

"Good." He replied, they said good-bye and then he hung up the phone. He was in his trailer, at eleven o'clock at night time. Although he loved acting, and every second of it, a part of him wished to be home, laying around and watching Hermione read her books from a distance, or get so into Notting Hill that she wouldn't notice anyone enter her room. He had asked her what was the deal with Notting Hill, and she smiled up at him, "It reminds me of someone, someone I know." That was all she said.

He didn't even take the time to watch that movie, because he knew that that 'someone' was out there. That 'someone' would always be out there. And it pained him to even consider the thought. It pained him to even think of all the possibilities. He closed his eyes for a second, and then he heard knocking.

Harry stood feebly, his legs were aching from the exercise he had for an hour thrice a day. He took a peek through the curtain window, and it was Fleur. He smiled at her, and then opened his door.

"There's a man looking for you outside." She told him. "He seemed... lost, and it's a miracle that he was allowed to be brought into the set."

"And then?"

"But when I saw him, and I suddenly knew why he was brought in... it's like, an unmistakable resemblance."

"Who is it? What are you talking about?" He was completely confused. Who in the hell was Fleur talking about?

"What I'm saying is," she took in a deep breath, making Harry's heart beat wildly in anticipation. "Your father's here."

His initial reaction was to smile at her, thank her, and hug her. But after letting the thought of is father visiting him on set, his _father_, _visiting_ him, his jaw dropped and his brows furrowed in worry... or was it irritation? Harry walked past Fleur praying silently to himself that she forgive him for being so rude. He sucked in another gasp of air and turned left, into the lounge where the receptionist was. A man in his 50s stood next to a sign that said 'Filming on-going, please take the necessary precautions', wearing a maroon sweater and khaki pants, his unruly mop of grayish hair sticking out. His glasses were gold rimmed, and he stole glances at his watch, looking for his son. "Hi." His father called, smiling.

"I don't mean to be rude, father," Harry took a deep breath, his emerald eyes flickering to his father's. "But, what are you doing here?"

"I decided to visit you. If that's alright, I've always wondered what it was like... working here. If what you're doing is classified under that category." James told him, and started walking towards the set, where Viktor was doing a scene in a train.

"Of course it's work dad, it's not like this is classified under the oh I don't know, maybe I just spend months and months getting no sleep, memorizing scripts, being constantly watched and criticized by the media and having no privacy at all just for fun." His father stared at him.

"Don't you love your job?" He asked.

"I love my job, but sometimes the money's more important than that!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air in exhaustion. He was suddenly grateful that they were in a deserted area of the set, since everyone rushed to the snack bar. "It's not like _you're_ working your arse off to pay for Remus' medical bills."

"Of course you're working your arse off," James retorted, he was suddenly calm, looking at his son as if he was being immature. Well, at times, he actually was a tad bit childish. "Considering that you quit your last movie because of such pathetic reasons."

"Oh—so _this_ is where we're going! You came here to criticize me, didn't you? Didn't you?" Harry asked, his voice rising. He could feel his throat burn—he'd done enough shouting, his voice was becoming hoarse.

James looked down at his polished shoes, guilt twisting his insides, his hazel eyes flickering for his son's angered expression to the brown paper bag he was holding. It took him a while to realize that it was still in his hand. He smiled sheepishly at his son.

"You think this is so funny?" Harry asked, irritated. "You _think_ this is so funny? Well—let's all just laugh at Harry Potter. Since he's such a pathetic son, shall we?"

No response, his father was just smiling. After a few minutes, James spoke, "Want some dinner?" He asked and held up the paper bag. "I got Chinese food." After saying this, he watched his son eye him closely.

"I don't give a damn about—wait, you don't have a can of soda there, do you? I've been dying for something unhealthy to drink. The secretary's going all mad about it." Harry smiled at his father subtly. Finally seeing him for the first time in many, many, many years.

---

Her cone of chocolate ice cream is melting.

Drops of sticky chocolate ran down her fingers, landing on her baby blue pajamas. A lady, who was sitting in an empty wing in her friend's mansion, had her hair all tied up, a mud mask on her face, and eating her ice cream cone that started melting, groaned in annoyance. "Bullocks." She muttered, grabbing a piece of tissue and dabbing in on her fourth ice cream stain today.

Hermione was too preoccupied with nothing, and it was completely upsetting to know that she would spend her days walking endlessly in the house in her pajamas and fluffy pink slippers holding only a book and a pillow. Ginny and Draco asked her what she was doing and she gave them a stern look, "I'm busy with something," She told them, and continued on her day just laying about and watching reruns of "I Love Lucy."

"Grief just got into her, she'll be up and about in no time." Ginny told Draco, while they were sprawled across the couch in the living room.

"I'd rather keep her from being up and about, if you ask me. She'll already up and about—and a bit too much, I might add! Especially when she 'accidentally' visits our room at night!" Draco ranted, sitting up. Ginny kneeled behind him, and wrapped her slender arms around his neck, her lips pressing against his pale blond hair.

"Allow me to rephrase the sentence—she'll be tired and unconscious in no time." She said with sarcasm. He almost choked on the glass of water he was drinking and stared at her.

"That's absurd! That's... that's... completely what I wasn't expecting, dearest." He confessed.

"Then what did you expect me to say?" She started at his grayish blue eyes, and for a minute she was lost in them. She recovered easily, and her eyes flickered from the silver ring on her finger to his stare. She raised her eyebrow at him. "So you expected me to say...'Oh Draco honey, I'll just lock the door next time so Hermione won't enter by accident'?" She mimicked, and playfully slapped his shoulder.

"Well..." Draco began, smiling mischievously at her, and he grabbed her by the waist from behind and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. Ginny let out a small moan, and he helped her position her on his lap. And continued planting kisses all over her face, Ginny smiled, and soon found herself being kissed on the teeth by accident.

"Draco, Draco, Draco." She giggled, and broke it off. "Not now." She told him, and laughed as she saw the look on his face.

"Ew, get a room, guys." Hermione commented, walking past them.

---

"I've only known so little about you, son, and sometimes it comes back to haunt me." James told him, taking another sip of tea. Harry only nodded, and he put his mug of coffee to his lips to have a drink. It took him a while to refrain from shouting at him.

"So I decided that we have some father-son bonding. So," He began, prompting himself excitedly on the couch. "Who was your first?" Harry spit out his coffee, while he was drinking and it disgustingly went back into his cup. He coughed for a moment, in shock and stared at his father.

"_Excuse me?_" He asked, setting the mug down on the table.

"I asked," James took a deep breath, "Who was your first?"

"My first... what, exactly?" Harry could feel his palms sweating, he never imagined this conversation in his life. Especially with his father, who had the attention span of a teaspoon at one point.

"You know... your _first._"

"I—uhm, do you really, really erm, _want_ to know? Because for a brief moment, I thought that you were asking for the name of the woman I lost my virginity to. Please tell me I'm wrong." _Please, tell me I'm fucking wrong._

"Hmm," James rubbed his chin to think, Harry knew that there was something going on in his mind. "So there _was_ a woman."

Harry laid back into the sofa landing with a soft 'thud', rolling his eyes. He prompted himself for what was about to happen. They were stuck in a staring game, and sadly his father was winning. He lifted his hands into the air, a gesture of his defeat and sighed, "Well, yes. There was a woman, Laura McKenzie, I was fifteen."

James let out a low whistle, and for a moment Harry couldn't believe he would be sharing this to anyone. "That explains a lot." His father commented. After a pregnant pause, he turned to look at Harry. "So? How was it like?"

He snorted, and folded his arms over his chest. "What makes you think that I would tell you that?" Harry for one, knew that the night he lost his virginity was all too embarrassing, he was only but a teenager who had a few cups of beer, and the next thing he knew he was on top of one of the most popular and _experienced_ girls he had known in school, fumbling like a uncoordinated elephant. It ended up that Harry became too nervous to actually move, and terrible at whatever he did, and Laura well, too drunk to even make a comment, or she was enjoying it, the question would remain sadly unanswered, to Harry's dismay.

Well, no one had to know about that.

"A man can try..." James sighed.

"Keep trying then."

"How about Cho?" His father suggested, rather liking his son's discomfort.

Harry's cheeks flushed bright pink, and shifted rather uncomfortably in his seat. Cho was certainly more of a... physical person, there was no denying it, and he was rather grateful that because of her, he improved a bit, he gained more confidence. They were the kind of couple everyone would shout '_Get a room_' at not because they were joking or for the sake of fun, they really wanted the couple to _get _a room, which, by the end of the night, they did. Their nights compromised of the same pattern, more or less, and the media could not stop loving their unintentional Public Display of Affection—if there were such a thing—because sometimes, they would get too caught up in the moment to ever notice. They looked liked the kind of couples that had such an appetite for each other, imagine the shock when the fans found out of their frequent fighting.

The silence between them grew thick, and Harry found himself staring at his hands, and suddenly missing Cho's bouncy and energetic behavior that would light up the room. And suddenly his thoughts shifted to Hermione, and he imagined the way she'd be giving witty remarks or laughing at his stupidity and embarrassment.

"Keep trying, dad."

"Harry, can I visit Remus? I have a few days off anyway. It's only right for a father to check on his friend."

---

"Do you need help with luggage, Mr. Potter?" Draco offered. James shook his head, saying that he could handle it. Harry's house started to look like a boarding house, with the number of people inside. Draco shot a not-so-friendly glance at his friend, wondering what on earth they were doing at the wee hours of the morning. He could have at least called, but after all, this _was_ Harry's house.

Everyone settled down, and went to bed, deciding that they should all talk in the morning—except for Harry, that is, after making a few phone calls, he managed to take a few days off.

Hermione slept soundly through the night, and morning arrived faster than expected. Sun peered through her blinds and outlined her body, its rays wrapping its mixture of yellow and orange around her. Her brown hair messily sprawled across the pillow. To her disappointment, she woke up to her stomach's loud grumbling, since she pigged out on ice cream last night. She groaned heavily when she sat up from her bed, just another day for Hermione Granger, probably the second most boring person on earth—the first being Percy Weasley, who bored her to death with his stories on being such a great leader. She sat up, thinking of taking a shower after sneaking a few pieces of toast, bacon, eggs and orange juice into her room—besides, Draco and Ginny aren't usually awake at this time.

She ran her hands over her pink silk pajamas, smoothing out the creases and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. After brushing, she tiptoed all her way to the kitchen, and got a few pieces of ready-made eggs, bacon and toast from the kitchen. While passing through the dining room, her eyes half-closed, she heard something.

"Why, hello. I didn't know that you were a 'pink' girl." Someone greeted from behind her. Hermione froze.

_Not today, not today._ She told herself, her feet suddenly super-glued to the ground. She turned around cautiously, and suddenly there were six people looking up at her, one of whom she didn't recognize, he didn't bother looking up from the newspaper, he looked a lot like Harry, and it gave her the goosebumps. Harry was beaming at her, and she felt her cheeks flush—with embarrassment.

"Holy shit, be right back." She muttered, and without looking back, she ran upstairs to take a shower. After her shower, she decided to eat her breakfast in her room, after donning her red turtleneck and beige shorts. She put on her flip-flops and went downstairs, after practically shoving her food down her throat in hurry. By the time she arrived, everyone was enjoying breakfast, and Tonks was just in a middle of telling a story, probably a joke, since everyone was clutching to their stomachs in stifled laughter, except for the man that looked like Harry. She decided to name him 'Harry two'.

"I didn't know you walk in your sleep." Harry retorted, as she sat on the chair across him. She was amazingly happy to see that arrogant face again, and punch the living daylights out of him, but she wouldn't let him know that.

"Good morning to you, too." She replied, rolling her eyes. Harry pushed his untouched plate towards her. "You should eat more, you've lost weight."

"But she just ate a tub of ice cream last night and—" Ginny whined, but Draco shot her a warning glance, and she stopped.

Hermione smiled at Harry, "No, thanks, I already ate." And unintentionally stole another glance at 'Harry two', the _real_ Harry seemed to notice this.

"Dad, meet Casey Barrett," He introduced, forgetting his manners, "Casey, meet Dad."

James stared at her, she looked exactly like someone he knew, but he couldn't quite pinpoint on who it was, but she did look like someone he knew. It was at the tip of his tongue. "James Potter." He introduced, smiling.

"Pleasure." She smiled back, and shook his hand.

"So, erm, I didn't expect you to be home so early. You should've called." She told Harry. He was smiling giddily, like a child who had an overdose of sugar—but coffee was the equivalent of sugar in his world.

"I just wanted to surprise you." He replied.

She nodded, "Well—you didn't. Ha! Take that."

"I did."

"No you didn't." She lied, sticking her tongue out.

"I did!" He replied, "Well—who was all 'holy shit, be right back.' Then? huh?"

"I—uh—Fine." She huffed, "I confess—" Harry leaned in, expecting her to submit to defeat. "Pink really is my color." She told him, he stuck his tongue out and scrunched his face, disgusted. His expression made her laugh, and she started bursting into giggles, forgetting that there were 5 people around them watching their conversation. Harry started chuckling too.

"God, I've missed you." He remarked, still laughing.

Hermione pretended to not hear that, but she did.

Yes—she did.

Breakfast had passed peacefully after that conversation, except for the unsettling fact that James, Harry's father kept on staring at Hermione, and she found him rather familiar as well—maybe she just bumped into him at a department store or something...

Hermione was swirling her glass of orange juice, and she felt somebody kick her in the shin.

"What the—ouch, Harry, that was my foot!" She cried, wincing.

"Huh—what? What was that, Casey?" He asked, looking up from the script in his hands.

"That was my foot!" She hissed.

"I didn't do anything to your foot—"

"Well who was that—"

Draco kicked her in the shin once more to get her attention, but she continued bickering with Harry. Everyone started rolling their eyes again. "Harry, just stop fooling around! Just come out and say that you kicked me!" Hermione snarled.

"Why are we even discussing this? It's just a simple matter and—"

"But you _kicked_ me, you're being immature again." She whined.

"Casey." Draco called, nudging her once again on the shin. He saw her wince again, and she turned to him, smiling sweetly.

"If you could just wait a moment, Draco," She said through her gritted teeth. "It would be hard to listen to you because Harry here, won't stop kicking me." She snarled, shooting a glance at Harry. After their whole 'I've missed you so much I just want to tear your head off' conversation she and Harry had a few minutes ago, they started to bicker over everything _'Making up for lost time'_ Ginny had whispered into his ear. But he was sure that before he left, he had to make sure that Hermione knew of their engagement.

"For the last time, I did _not_ kick you!" Harry told her.

"Casey—now." Draco ordered, grabbing her by the wrist, he dragged her off to the kitchen. "Ow, ow, ow hey—watch it!" She cried, well, she being the accident prone one, she tripped on a few things...

He stopped, and when Draco turned around, and saw her face, he felt excited. He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, a lopsided grin spread across his pale face and amusement dancing in his grayish blue eyes.

"Hermione, Ginny and I just got married!" He announced happily, and his sudden burst of emotion he had been hiding for so long finally let out, and he watched his best friends' face for 17 years light up, and a goofy smile spread across her face. She felt her legs running, and she saw Ginny who was standing next to Harry, and she flung her arms around her, Hermione's vision slightly distorted by red. "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness!" She cried, clinging on to her. "I'm so happy for you two! This is the best news I've heard in _ages_!"

Ginny always knew that Hermione had the tendency to be emotional, and that was what she was thankful for—she hadn't the chance to celebrate with Harry sulking around. Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears. "Thank you." She choked out.

Harry sent apologetic glances towards his father, Remus and Tonks. "Uhm, sorry about that. It's not usually this loud." He reasoned. The girls started talking happily and jumping and he pressed his palms to his ears in irritation. After a few seconds, he brought his hands to his sides.

"It is, actually." Remus said wittily, turning to James. "The house is this noisy with their bickering, Harry and Casey keep on fighting over the silliest things." James chuckled slightly, "Too right you are, friend."

"Would you guys fancy a game of battleship upstairs?" Tonks piped in, smiling childishly. James shot Remus a look, "She's been into it for weeks, now." Remus replied and got up from his chair, James followed suit.

Hermione and Ginny were still chattering excitedly about the wedding, about how they would want it to be extravagant and beautiful, how they wanted it to happen in a large cathedral, and then rent out 3 floors of the best hotel around for their guests. Harry walked slowly towards Draco, his hands inside his pockets.

"No offense," He began, gesturing towards the two girls. "But they're going to spend all your money." Harry remarked, and smiled. It felt good to actually see Hermione smile.

"Casey is different." Draco said, as he saw Harry staring at a certain brown haired woman. Harry looked back, and smiled softly. "Yeah, she is."

"I told her I was getting married, and all of a sudden she runs of to hug Ginny." He frowned, and Harry laughed loudly.

"She's very pretty when she smiles." Draco observed.

"Yeah, she is." Harry agreed.

As Ginny's and Hermione's voices echoed in the air, Harry felt uncomfortable and ashamed for not being as excited he was supposed to be when he had heard the news. He looked up, and it hit him—Ginny and Draco were going to get _married._ Married! It was about time, he had to admit. He remembered the first time they met—he was there. It was when Ginny was an intern—just like Casey was only a few months ago—and looked dumbfounded and nervous as she saw a tall, blond man, with the most amazing eyes she had ever seen. They got together after a few months, and now, after being so in love for two years, they were going to the next step.

Harry imagined himself in Draco's shoes, he imagined himself in a tuxedo, his hands all clammy as his bride was walking down the aisle. He imagined photographers, taking pictures of every angle, turning the scene into a piece of art to be hung on a gallery. He imagined finally being eternally bonded to his soon-to-be wife.

He imagined that Remus would be there, still well and healthy, Tonks and her pink hair sticking out, his father looking up proudly. He imagined that Draco would make the best 'best man speech' he had ever heard. He imagined Ginny to be waiting for the bride, watching in awe grinning lopsidedly at him. He grinned back. There would be classical music playing in the background, his bride's dainty steps and beautiful smile would capture everyone's heart. He imagined almost crying tears of joy when his bride would say her vows. And he imagined himself, the Harry Potter, stuttering like a boy, nervous and too excited to speak. He imagined that when he would speak the world's most cliché things into her ear while inside the limo towards the reception.

Harry shook his head. Ridding his thoughts, that would be a long time from now, and who knows who his bride would be? Right now mattered.

The brown haired woman smiling and laughing right in front of him mattered.

---

**A/N: Those who must be redeemed will be redeemed, cheers. :) Please review, you all know how much that means to me, **


	12. He Leaves Again

**A/N: Here's another chapter. Haven't updated in a while. I'm halfway through Chapter 13 already. lol.**

**Chapter 12: He Leaves Again**

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Harry spent the rest of his so-called vacation in his room, catching up on sleep, he's been doing that for the past 2 days already. Although Hermione was overjoyed about his sudden arrival—but wouldn't dare show it—she really wished that she could've spent more time with him—his good side, at least. She ran out of reasons to pass by his wing, at first she wanted to look for Sirius, and give him a biscuit, and then she wanted to watch a nice movie inside Harry's home theater, and she passed by again, because she left her bracelet, and another since she wanted to see how Remus and Tonks were doing. And here she was, staring at the stairs leading to his wing, running out of an excuse on why she had passed there for the 5th time today, except for one. The only excuse that was left was the unsettling possibility that she really _wanted_ to see him.

_Weird,_ she thought to herself, _Not only a month ago, I thought that he was, well, a git. And here I am, becoming some desperate stalker-like fool who passes his corridor every 5 minutes in case he would stick his head out of the door to his room._ She shook her head in disappointment. _I should get some new friends. Or probably do something that would keep my mind elsewhere... or something..._

And she really needed someone else to hang out with, things were getting lonely, and she pretty much got tired of staying inside the house all day. She _could_ hang out with Mitch, but it's his sister's birthday today. Maybe shopping with Ginny would work, since she would return to her flat with Draco in a week. She looked at the clock, it was only early in the afternoon. She shrugged, _it could work._ While walking up the stairs towards her bedroom, she tried thinking on what to do for the day.

_A hot shower would do the trick._ She told herself, as she wriggled out of her clothes and entered the shower. After 30 minutes, she emerged, and then dressed up in a white, sleeveless, blouse, and wore black shorts. She slipped on her sandals, and tied her hair up. She applied light make-up and then grabbed her purse—it would be nice to go out today.

She walked down the stairs, and went up again, towards Ginny and Draco's room. "Hey." She called, knocking on their door. She pressed her ears to it and heard no response. She shrugged, maybe they went to the beach or something—Draco could use some color on his skin.

"Wotcher, Casey." Nymphadora Tonks emerged from the kitchen, wearing a very stylish olive green top covered in beads. Her pants were sewed on with different colors, and her pink hair stood out.

"Oh, hey, Tonks." Hermione greeted back, "I'm going out to do some shopping, come with?" Tonks nodded enthusiastically. "I thought you'd never ask." She said, and together they got out and went to the nearest mall.

---

"So, let's get something sexy and flirtatious for your boyfriend, tonight, shall we?" Tonks asked, while they were searching through a rack full of dresses. Hermione tensed, and felt her heart beating faster.

"What boyfriend?" She asked, puzzled.

"Oh—" Tonks frowned, "Harry hasn't asked you out yet?" She took out a green dress that in Hermione's opinion, looked kind of cute, "That's a shame." Tonks said a frown forming on her bright red lips, sighing and then putting the green dress back, making a disgusted sound.

"What do you mean, 'yet'?" Hermione asked, she tried to avoid analyzing the sentence too much, but her heart was on overdrive, and somehow she couldn't get it to stop. Her friend shrugged, "Well, there's bound to be something going on between you two anyway."

"Come on, Tonks, it's only been a month. Besides, I think he's still healing after that Cho break-up anyway." She convinced, although it sounded awfully like it was she who needed the convincing, not the woman with pink hair beside her, checking every dress on the rack.

Tonks let out an exasperated sigh, "We all saw that coming, actually, so don't fret." She leaned in closer and whispered, "Frankly, I'm quite glad you broke them up, it was about time, you know. I just couldn't stand that atrocious little prat that looked in the mirror every five seconds when she came over for the holidays."

Hermione's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, even if Harry and Cho didn't like each other, it was still incredibly rude and downright bitchy to break them up, what if Cho or Harry would change? And they could get through their problems? Tonks looked back, and placed her hands reassuringly on her shoulder, "You did something good, Casey, you kicked some sense to him. Speaking of kicking—" Hermione gasped when Tonk's hand settled down on her own stomach. They smiled giddily at each other, it was like toxic, and Hermione felt happier by the minute.

"I'm not with Harry, to make things clear. We're not together at all." Hermione clarified, and then smiled, "Now," She said, smoothing out the crinkles on her blouse, "Why don't we look for baby clothes?"

"No." She replied sternly, "I've shopped already, and besides, you're the priority now. And it certainly wouldn't _kill _you got a haircut and some new clothes."

Tonks led her to a salon, Hermione could already feel the hair at the back of her neck standing. A man wearing a black shirt and jeans strode in. His hair was platinum blonde and he flashed his pearly white teeth at the two of them, he was muscular and the two girls wondered why he was in the mall cutting hair instead of competing in the Olympics or something. "I want you to..." Tonks began, then stepped closer to the man and then whispered something in his ears. Hermione gulped, she could feel it, Tonks was up to no good. The man she now knew as Leo through his nametag approached her, and led her to a chair.

She knew alright, that Tonks was up to no good.

Two hours had passed, and Hermione was suddenly thankful for Tonks' presence. Her hair was cut neatly below her shoulders, and all the remaining traces of black in her hair had been cut away. Now it was just its natural chestnut color, and she had missed it, she remembered the times she even went redheaded or blonde. She giggled at the thought. Leo cut the front portion of her hair, and now she had bangs at the right, and it fell just below her eyes. It looked kind of cute, in her opinion. The corners of her lips curled upward into a grateful smile. Leo nodded in response.

After paying, Hermione linked her arms with Tonks, whose hair was now a eclectic color of purple and then asked what they would be doing next. Tonks bit on her gummy bear. "Well." She said, chewing. "Why don't we get you some clothes?" Hermione shot a questioning look, and then Tonks nodded once, as if she read her mind. "Harry said it was alright to use his credit card."

Tonks let out a small squeal in excitement, then started dragging Hermione to a store, practically pushing her to the changing room and throwing a basketful of shirts, dresses, jackets, jeans, skirts in her face. She had no choice than to try them on. After fitting a total of seven jeans, five skirts, five tank tops, six shirts, three sweaters, four jackets, and seven dresses. She finally made it out of the changing room alive.

"I've never been so scared of inanimate objects in my life!" She said, exasperated. But in truth, all the clothes had fit her perfectly and it was amazing that Tonks had found her clothes that fit her style. The sales clerk approached her. "So what will you be purchasing, ma'am?"

Tonks put her hand reassuringly on Hermione's shoulder, raising her eyebrows. The princess sighed in defeat, and held up Harry's credit card. "I'll take everything." She said unhappily.

"What are _you_ so glum about? Last time I checked, shopping made people happy." Tonks teased, nudging Hermione on the side as they walked out the store, bags in hand.

"Oh I don't know," She sighed again, and shook her head. Her hair fell messily on her shoulder and her bangs drooped over her face. "Maybe because I spent all _this _on Harry's money."

"Relax, be daft for once. You need it."

---

The day played out quite well, Hermione and Tonks were able to buy a huge amount of baby clothes—despite her previous protests, who had known that Tonks had a soft spot for ducks?—even if Tonks was only a few months pregnant. They went to watch a movie and had dinner at a fast food restaurant—_McDonald's wouldn't hurt a baby, Tonks had said, giggling. _For at least a few minutes, Hermione even forgot that she was being searched everywhere. At around eight, they returned to Harry's place, laughing as they entered the door.

"I can't believe that you flirted with the man at the ticket booth to give us discounts!" Hermione laughed, setting the bags on the table. Tonks smiled mischievously.

"But he was genuinely attracted to you though, when you came back from the bathroom and asked what was going on, that was when he gave in." She told her, laughing.

"Yeah, right. I've never had this much fun in weeks." Hermione laughed, and fell backwards, onto the sofa. Her head hit something soft. Tonks tried to stifle her giggles. "Mmm." Hermione cooed, not bothering to check what it was since her eyes were closed. "I didn't know that there was a pillow here." She started humming a song softly to herself.

"Huh? What's going on?" She heard someone say, the pillow she had been lying on jolted upward, and she sat up immediately. She stared at him. It was actually a _person_ she had been lying on. She suddenly started feeling lightheaded.

"Harry?" She asked, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, she looked around for Tonks, but she wasn't there anymore. "What are you doing here?"

He groaned softly, when he fell back to the couch in exhaustion, his hands ran through his raven colored hair, and his bloodshot emerald green eyes stared blankly at nothing. "I fell asleep." He murmured, she nodded, and then shifted uncomfortably. Her legs were slung over the side of the sofa. She remained the same position, resisting the urge to look at him. He looked kind of...well..._sad_. "I went out with Tonks today." She told him, she followed his stare and found herself staring at the fireplace, little flames dancing around blocks of wood. "It was fun."

"That's good." He sighed, and rested his hand on hers, calling her attention. "Sorry, I'm just too tired to put up with a proper conversation now."

Hermione stood up, ashamed, his grip still firmly on hers. "Oh, alright, I'll be going upstairs then. I don't want to bother you. See you la—"

Harry's hand pulled her down, "Don't." He told her, he watched her stare soften, and she nodded. They assumed the same position. Her head was resting on his lap lying down. He was sitting, his head resting on a cushion. "It's alright." He said, absently stroking her hair. A nice and thick silence surrounded them, and Hermione was thankful that he couldn't see her face entirely, or else he would've noticed how red she was... "It feels nice." He muttered, and wanted to say something else but left it hanging when he noticed Hermione asleep, too. He smiled to himself weakly, and drifted off to sleep.

---

A few hours ago, while it was still early in the afternoon, James heard two excited giggles and then the front door close. He then realized that Casey and Tonks left to go do what girls do, and he was left with the unsettling suspicion in his head that he had met Casey already, and the tempting fact that she left her room unlocked. He was suddenly facing two very difficult decisions. Either leave the nagging at the back of his head alone, or browse through all her belongings, invade her privacy and find out who she really is. The name Casey just didn't fit, her name sounded like it started with an 'H' or something. He chose the later.

He casually strolled out the room while the nurse was attending to Remus for his treatment, and whistled softly, tiptoeing when he passed Harry's room. He felt nostalgia for his 'Marauder days'. But the thrill would have to suffice, he went down a flight of stairs, then went up again, towards Hermione's room. James' clammy hands wrapped around the gold doorknob, and he looked out for anyone, and he smiled smugly to himself. Hermione's wing was practically deserted. He opened the door, and saw her neat room, everything looked... _clean_.

There was a picture on her bedside lamp that caught his attention. He approached it, and there was no doubt about it, this was a picture of the Hermione Granger when she was only eleven, or this was how she looked like in his memory. The next one looked like she was fifteen, she was wearing a purple hoodie and jeans, laughing at the camera while petting a golden retrievers. He thought about it thoroughly, the 'Casey' he knew now was thinner and paler, her bushy hair suddenly tamed. Her front teeth fixed. Her hair was colored dark brown, and her eyes glowed even more. He took a close look at it, then set it back on the table, thinking that he should tell Harry soon, but not now. Now's not the time.

James sighed heavily, maybe Harry already knew. Who knows what kind of secrets his son had been hiding from him? But maybe he deserved it, after all. Harry was outraged when he realized that the letter he received was the invitation to his wedding. Harry, who had put so much effort to escape his life in London was forced to go back, dress in stuffy suits and eat caviar with snobs and go to dinners and parties commemorating his father's marriage to a woman he barely knew. James slouched and walked back to Remus' room, memories from his Marauder days not leaving his head.

When he arrived, he slumped down into the sofa, suddenly worried and curious on why Harry, who formerly didn't want to get married to Hermione Granger, lived with her and adapted quite a liking for the woman. Remus looked up from his book, and stared at his friend.

"Something bothering you, Prongs?" He asked, his face sullen.

"Yes." James sighed, and wriggled his bum deeper in his seat in discomfort. "Why didn't any of you mention that Hermione Granger was living here?"

"Hermione Granger?" Remus asked, baffled. "When did you see her? She certainly isn't living with us... Unless Harry is keeping another woman in his room again."

James stared at him, not finding his joke so amusing. "She's Casey, right?"

"Of course not, I admit Casey has a few problems with her family but she certainly isn't Hermione Granger, I'll tell you that. She's only started living with us for about a month now, and it doesn't fit because Hermione disappeared around two years ago, and didn't it just say in the papers the other day that she was traveling in Europe? You're not going loony, are you?" He told him, laughing slightly.

Remus made sense. James put his head in his hands and was trapped in a string of thought. There could be a lot of people who looked like Hermione, anyway.

Perhaps he _was _going loony.

---

On the other side of the world, a distressed prince was pacing back and forth inside his room, this was something he had started doing regularly, since the news that he had three months left to get married. Richard Granger, who had proposed that he would arrange his daughter with Ron had played shamelessly with his mind. There obviously was no wedding between Harry and Isabella! And there was obviously no possibility that Hermione Granger would come back willingly to get married without doing it again! Who was he kidding? Ronald Weasley was torn between two very difficult decisions, what he wanted, and what _they_ wanted.

Life as a prince was never easy for Ronald, seeing as he was prejudiced for most of his life. People were expecting the most out of a person whose dream goal was to make it as a professional athlete and tour the world. He was never given the chance to even run around the park without hordes of nannies and butlers following and watching his every step. He was made a prince through blood, and blood alone, and to him blood seemed unimportant.

Because, as there were good things, there were also bad things that came along with his blood that he had unwillingly chose—or rather there wasn't a choice at all—he had experienced his family's first death threat at the age of eight, and then he was restricted of coming out of the house by his parents in fear that someone wearing a black ski mask and holding a smelly pillow sack would kidnap him. Even his robot toys were inspected thoroughly—thoroughly meaning torn apart then poorly assembled by the security guards—for days until he could actually play with them.

Growing up constantly criticized and watched by the media, enhanced security, power, even strangers coming up to him to say hi, and being forced to be decent were things he could put up with. But arranged marriage? It was the twenty-first century for Christ's sake! Thing is. Even his sister hasn't returned home, and sometimes he wished he would've just left to.

"Excuse me, highness." The maid's voice disturbed his jumbled thoughts, "You have a phone call."

"I—er, thanks, Theresa." Ron said distractedly, picking up the gold rimmed phone.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hello dearest Ronald!" Isabella's chirpy voice rang in the receiver.

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Isabella! It's been a long time since I've heard from you!" He meant it, it _has been_ a long time, even longer since she was always on his mind.

"I was just wondering, if you're free that is..." Ron began.

"How does the park sound? Tomorrow? At four?" She asked eagerly. They agreed, and then they put hung up. Ron smiled smugly to himself.

Decision making could wait.

---

Hermione stirred, and awoke to the sounds of hushed voices and stifled laughs around her. She sat up from where she was sleeping. She groaned and stretched her arms up in the air. She squinted and was complete and utterly shocked to see Draco and Ginny tiptoeing through the living room. She let out an inaudible shriek, Draco was almost stark, wearing nothing but striped mid-thigh boxers followed by Ginny, who was wearing a camisole and apple green underwear. As soon as she found her voice, she deemed it wise to use it. Even though only ten seconds had passed, ten seconds seemed longer than she remembered. Ten seconds seemed longer than she wanted it to be.

"What in the—" She exclaimed, so freaked out that she found herself lost for words. She stood, and folded her arms across her chest. "What are you doing here dressing like..._that_! Wait—in fact, not dressing at all!" She yelled, disgust written all over her features. The two stared at her and exchanged amused glances. "What are you two so jolly about? Well, just so you two know, this will be causing me years of therapy! Draco, you know better than to walk around stark!"

They didn't stop smiling. "What are you two so amused about?" She scowled.

"Oh, nothing." Ginny squeaked innocently. "Maybe just the fact that you and Harry were cuddling."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it, and then opened it again. She reminded them of a goldfish and Ginny let out another giggle. Her face turning to a bright pink color, Hermione turned around, to see Harry awake and staring up at them. "How long have you been awake?" She fumed, anger rising.

"Longer than you." He replied simply, then grinned. His cheeks were rather pink, even if he had seen Ginny only in her underwear on numerous occasions she still had that effect on him—she had that effect on everybody.

"Then why don't you help me here?" She told, through her gritted teeth. She held Harry's arm, to lift him off the sofa but he jerked her hand away. "Bloody hell." He murmured. He hit his arm the other day when he fell not-so-softly into the concrete floor after doing a stunt. Hermione knew nothing of this, so she rolled her eyes and gently pulled him up.

"Now as I was saying..." Hermione began, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Oy!" she called, but Draco and Ginny managed to slip past her while her back was turned and they were now going up the stairs, sandwiches in hand. Draco's arm securely around Ginny's slender waist. She sighed, then slouched her shoulders in defeat. Plopping back down on the sofa, Harry followed suit, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

She leaned her head absently on his shoulder, and then let looked up at him with big cinnamon colored eyes. "Sorry." She muttered.

"Sorry for what?" He asked, and amused smile tugging at his lips.

She shrugged, "For one, I left the house without you knowing. Two, I slept on you. Three, I woke you up, and Four I have this weird ominous power that makes your skin burn whenever I touch you." She sighed quietly recounting what happened earlier. She dared not to mention that she had just splurged using his credit card.

Harry's cheeks were tinted slightly with faint pink when she buried her face into the side of his arm, well, not exactly _burn_, just maybe make him turn slightly red. "I know you left. And I already told you that it was not problem when you slept on me, I wanted my leg to be dead anyway—" He joked, but Hermione only glared at him, and not so playfully hit his arm. He watched her blush, then he chuckled slightly, and slung his arm over her shoulder. "I told you that I woke up earlier than you. And for that ominous power you have...sorry to bust your bubble but...I just hit my arm the other day. You are not Dr. Doom or Magneto or any other freaky villain with powers for that matter. Just Casey Barrett."

Hermione pouted. And he smirked. "Did I say that I was sorry I busted your bubble?"

"Say it again." She huffed, now sitting still on the sofa avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sorry I busted your bubble." Harry repeated, slowly this time. "You know what a bubble is, right? Say it with me. B-U-B-B-L-E. Bubble. Bubble. _Bubble._" She rolled her eyes at him this time. She slouched back in her seat, her head shamelessly leaning on him, while his arm draped over her shoulder. She was too psychology disturbed due to the public display of all the affection her two best friends had been doing in their room, especially when she saw them almost stark running around the house like a bunch of barbarians. It was pretty funny, she had to admit, but traumatizing nevertheless.

"Whatever," She sighed. "What made you hit your arm anyway?"

"I fell." He replied vaguely. "Viktor sort of pushed me out the window and then I missed the cushions."

Hermione stared at him. "And this is what you do when you work? Get pushed out the window by a Bulgarian athlete?"

He merely shrugged in response. "Yes." He took a deep breath, and made his voice sound hopeful and childish. "And if I'm lucky, I mean really, really, _really_ lucky, I get to kiss French women." He burst out laughing.

That was an unintentional stab to her heart.

"Oh..." She said, cracking a sly smile and getting up from the couch. She let slip a few giggles to hide her discomfort.

"Well then, mister 'I get to kiss French women daily', I've had a long day and I'm going to bed." She sighed discreetly, and then walked up the stairs slowly. Daring not to look back.

Harry stared at her fleeting figure, half-expecting her to turn around and smile a goodnight smile sweetly at him. She always did. He threw his head back in frustration.

_Oh God, what did I do now?_

Another day has arrived, to Hermione Granger's dislike. As she sat up from bed, she started to formulate things to do when boredom strikes again, so far, she had found nothing. She would have to see Harry Potter again, now charged up after having a good night's sleep, she took a mental note to try and practice new witty remarks, her occasional 'sod off' would have to go to the next level, as she was preparing to shoot anything which came to her mind as soon as a certain black haired, emerald eyed person opens his mouth.

Their conversation last night left a mark unwillingly engraved on Hermione's heart. She was well aware that he was an actor, and with acting came the lack of privacy, sleep, having to deal with stunts, gaining fame and fortune and mostly becoming every teenager's dream. But the thought that he may be kissing actresses or doing something _other _than kissing for the whole world to see never crossed her mind. Or maybe she didn't want it to. Shivering at the thought, she put on her slippers and went to the dinning room thinking that she'd stay in for most of the day.

While passing the living room, she was no longer surprised to see that Harry was dressed up, his messenger back slung over his shoulder, and saying good-bye to all his friends who were lined up in front of him. It was another familiar sight. She walked towards him hastily. "Hey," She mumbled softly, and he turned to look at her. His gaze softened.

"I'm leaving." He told her.

"I'm aware of that." She sighed, she felt like melting. Obviously she wasn't blind, and a blush started creeping up her cheeks when she heard his husky voice or how his tousled hair was slightly brown under the sun. His gaze wasn't helping at all.

He took a look at her. "You cut your hair." He said, smiling.

She smiled back, Tonks had her hair cut to only a few inches below her shoulders, she had to admit that she liked it. She heard the car honk from outside, and then for once she felt her heart screaming at her to just stay with him right there, despite what he had said last night. Her mind screamed no, and a simple good-bye would work. But she felt her body moving, oh so slowly against her will. And soon she had engulfed Harry into a bone crunching hug. "Bye. It was really good to see you again." She added, another blush creeping up her cheeks. He nodded at her, trying to keep calm even if he felt like smiling with joy. He turned around to leave.

Hermione sighed. She was starting to get sick of the turn of events in her life. First she wanted Harry gone, and then he stays, she wants to leave, he follows. Then she wants him to stay, he suddenly leaves, when she's starting to get used to him gone, he comes back, when she thought he would stay, he leaves again. Life shouldn't be so complicated.

The front door closed, and everyone started heading towards their rooms, leaving Hermione longing for just one more moment, just one more, one more where he was actually a decent, lovable man, one more while he only a few steps away from leaving for four, long months. She grabbed her coat by instinct, even if it were scolding hot. Running outside the door, she was glad and somewhat distressed when she saw the car going down the hill, towards the gates. She followed.

"Harry!" She cried loudly. "Harry!" The car came to a halt.

Harry walked out of the door, walking briskly towards her, "What? Is everything alright?" He asked worriedly, his jet black hair still unruly. She smiled weakly, and felt herself pull him into a tight embrace once again. He settled his arms around her back. "I'll miss you." She mumbled. He rested his chin on the top of her head for a few seconds, and Hermione even forgot about how rapid her heart was beating, all she was thinking about was this sweet and simple gesture.

There was something with the hug, and there was something to it, by the way that they were so close that she could hear his heartbeat and feel his chest rise with every breath he took. There was something to the musky smell of his cologne that intoxicated her. For a moment, she didn't even want to let go, but her mind was screaming otherwise. She felt herself bury her face into his chest for another haste moment. The more she wanted to let go, the more tightly she clutched on to him. The silence was becoming uneasy.

He took her face into his hands after a while.

"I'll miss you too." He said. His green eyes not leaving hers.

And with that, he retreated to the car, shut the door and Hermione was satisfied. Just for now.

---

**A/N: Hope you like the chapter. Please review. Cheers. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it means a lot. :)**

**Just so you know, I'm already working on the next chapter and it should be out soon. :)**


	13. Drawings and Dragons

**A/N: Here's the next chapter for Run Away Princess:)**

**Disclaimer: I **_**still**_** own nothing. –sighs-**

**Chapter 13: Drawings and Dragons**

---

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep._

"Hi—uh, Harry. It's me... again." Hermione said, exasperatedly. "I just want know how you're doing, Ginny and Draco are leaving today and I can see that you've been having a really busy week." _Since you haven't been returning my calls, _she thought bitterly. "But—take it easy, okay? Okay, uhm, that's all. Bye." She said into her phone and then snapped it shut. For a moment she expected to hear him. She sighed then returned to bed, slipping under the covers. She looked at the clock that read one o'clock in the morning; she set the alarm to seven o'clock, and put the phone beside her in case he returned her call.

It's been a week after Harry left, and since then, she had felt really ashamed of doing what she did. Saying that she 'will miss him' and even if it were true, she must've made a complete fool of herself. Harry hasn't called since then and she felt the need to apologize for hugging him and probably embarrassing him in front of all his friends in the car, or maybe he really didn't want to call. She sighed again, nibbling on her bottom lip then picked up the phone again.

Dialing Harry's number, she waited for him to pick up. With every ring she felt her breathing escalate.

_"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep._

Yet again, his voice mail picked up. She hung up without saying anything and then sighed.

"Stop sighing," Ginny's grumpy voice came, she groaned then lifter her head from her pillow. Grabbing it and pressed it over her head in frustration. "And stop calling Harry. It's irritating."

"I don't see why you had to sleep here in the first place, anyway." Hermione retorted, folding her arms over her chest.

Ginny looked up from her side of the bed, looking slightly offended. "I've had a rough day. And when I have rough days, Draco allows me to sleep in another room and cool it off."

She still didn't look convinced and searched her head for other meanings of 'rough day' and then she came across another meaning. She hid her disgust. "Define 'rough day'." She ordered.

"Rough day_, noun_." Ginny began, Hermione cracked a smile. "Means feeling like shit all day. Happy?"

Hermione was relieved to hear that, and not what she thought she would. "Then, I've had a rough day, too. You don't mind if I use the spare room, right?" Hermione asked, grabbing her phone—just in case he called—a pillow, and getting up. Ginny shook her head, put her hand over her forehead dramatically, looked towards the ceiling and mouthed a 'thank goodness' in a joking manner.

Walking through the empty corridors, she saw the door to Harry's room half-open. She peeked inside, and saw James staring at pictures of what looked like Harry's family. She quietly leaned on the door frame.

"You can come in, if you want." James said, not removing his gaze from Harry's picture with his mom. Hermione carefully stepped closer, and went up beside him.

"She's really pretty, his mom." Hermione said, looking at her.

"Lily _was _a very pretty woman." James corrected, sighing.

"I'm very sorry to hear that..." She said, quite sad for him, and started tracing her fingers over Harry's framed pictures. There was one when he was accepting an award, and another when he was at the beach with Cho. Another one was where he was at ay camping trip, he wore a dark green vest over a black shirt and a matching hat. Beside him was Draco, whose face was buried inside a steel bucket. Harry's hands were lifted, as if saying 'stop'. She guessed that the person who took the picture was Ginny, and that the picture was a poor attempt of trying to sneak up on them.

Hermione felt her phone vibrating within her pocket. She looked up at James, ashamed. "Sorry," She mumbled. "I have to take this certain call..." Rushing out the door, she pressed the 'accept' button and pressed it to her ear. She had barely noticed him leave and head towards the spare room he was staying in.

_"Hi."_ Harry's voice came from the receiver, it was hoarse and for a moment she couldn't even recognize him. Before she could speak, he cut her off. _"Listen, Casey please tell Ginny and Draco that it was a pleasure to have them over and that they could return any time they want. And tell my dad that Penelope is looking for him. And that's it for now. I've had a long day and I'll keep in touch soon."_

"Ha—"

And she was cut off and his voice sounded exactly like his voicemail, it was plain and seemed unenthusiastic to be talking to her. She slouched, and drifted back to Harry's now empty bedroom, where she planned to stay for the night.

---

She couldn't hold back her tears, her face scrunched up as a small sob escaped her lips. Hermione, wearing layers and layers of clothing hugged Ginny tightly, and then wiped the tears away. She sneezed again, and Draco and Ginny shot her sympathetic looks.

"You just _had_ to sleep in Harry's bed—God knows how many germs he was carrying!" Ginny scolded, and handed her another piece of tissue.

"No—" She sneezed again, "I didn't know that there was a lot of dust, and I'm allergic—" She sneezed again, for what seemed like the millionth time this morning, "to it."

Draco nodded, and then he smiled sheepishly, "Come on and visit us next month, we could go to my house in Chicago."

"How many houses have you got, anyway?" Hermione asked, and he smirked at her. The corners of his lips curving upward into a smile, but he didn't answer instead he gave her one last hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek, they burst out laughing. Ginny laughed, and did the same.

"Bye, luv. Keep in touch!" Ginny waved, and closed the door behind them. Near the distance, she could hear Tonks and Remus go to the kitchen, while James stayed behind.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." She greeted, walking past him. He couldn't get rid of the unsettling resemblance she and Hermione had.

"Excuse me, Ms. Barrett." James called, she turned around gracefully, a worried look on her face.

"Please be honest with me, I won't be angry." His tone was serious, and she tilted her head.

"Honest with what?"

"Are you Hermione Granger?" His question was short and straight to the point. She felt blood pump to her ears, and her heart beat wildly.

She smiled at him, trying not to make her distress and nervousness evident in her voice. "Of course not, isn't she at Europe now?"

James nodded curtly, waved shortly, and followed after Remus and Tonks. Hermione took in sharp breaths of air, and ventured to her room to calm herself down.

---

_"Hey, it's Harry, I'm busy right now so leave a message and I'll call you later. Bye." Beep._

"It's me again. Remus told me to tell you that your dad told him to tell you that he left for Rome, I don't know why he asked Remus to tell me to tell you even if he's your dad but I did it anyway. Tonks' stomach is getting bigger by the day. Take care of yourself. No more broken arms, alright?" Hermione said. It's been another long week, and still no calls from Harry.

She had become so sick of wondering what he was doing... or how is he... if his day played out well, that she only called him every other day, her sentences short and straight to the point. She had expected this, after all. She despised doing nothing and being cooped up at home all day and being forced to stay home. She despised it as much as she despised the way Harry kept saying _'I'll call you later'_ and how he never does.

Harry, on the other hand, was lying sprawled across cold cement, blood was trickling from his chest onto the floor, forming a pool of blood. He could hear the crackling of something burning in the distance. He was sweating heavily, and his emerald green eyes focused on the blinding light in front of him. He winced out in pain, and breathed ragged breaths. He could no longer feel the pain as darkness crept up at him and with one last breath, he closed his eyes and let go.

"Cut!" Shouted Dean, who, to Harry, sounded a bit disappointed. Harry then groaned inwardly, cursing under his breath and he delicately brushed some gray powder off his torn and dirty clothes. He was careful to not smear blood all over the props—fake stones, carpets, his attire... He got up, and then shot a look at Dean.

"What did I do this time?" He asked, slightly irritated, his head throbbing from the lack of sleep.

"You're supposed to call for Fleur! Didn't you go over your lines?" Dean scolded, and then rolled his eyes. Harry nodded and then lied back down for the twenty-fourth time today.

The camera focused on him, and he tried his best to seem out of breath, even holding his own to make it seem believable. And he tried to imagine great pain, like a stabbing kind. "B—Brooke..." He said weakly, and then he relaxed, pretending to be dead, frail and lifeless. He heard her footsteps, and more. He knew what was going to happen next. A crowd had formed a circle around his seemingly lifeless body. And then he heard gasps and cries. "No!" Someone shrieked—and he knew who that person was. "No!" She cried.

And then he felt Fleur kiss him with all the passion she could muster, her slender fingers cupped around his face. A veil of blond shielding them, he then felt something wet on his face. Tears. It felt like nothing—like something he had grown used to, it was one of those meaningless kisses that they had become so familiar with.

"Cut!" Dean's voice boomed again, and Harry sat up.

"Good enough?" He asked, breathing heavily.

"It is." He said happily, and the staff clapped their hands. They all seemed fairly satisfied that they could finally move to a next scene. Harry threw his head back, Fleur laughed happily, lying beside him. He squeezed her hand in gratitude. Seamus threw a towel at Harry, and it was scolding hot, and it fell on his face. Something white and fluffy obscured his vision. "Oy!" Harry called, chuckling. He was feeling happy after a day of hard work.

"That was a good shot." He told her, grateful. Fleur looked at him, and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was an unbelievably good actor and it always struck Harry on how much passion she put into it. She looked uncertain. "Hey—if you weren't spectacular during that last shot, we'd be stuck doing that scene all day."

"I don't mind." She giggled, and a low chuckle escaped his lips to hide his discomfort, but he had always felt something for Fleur, they had become unbelievably close over the years. He used to have feelings for her. But then he couldn't avoid the slight awkwardness between them. Her hand squeezed his this time, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You were great, too."

"Yeah, considering that I screwed up at least twenty-four times today."

"You suck that much?" Viktor asked, laughing. He sat beside them. Harry prompted himself on his arms.

"Sod off, Krum. Or else _I'll _throw you out that blasted window this time."

"I'd like to see you try, Potter." He taunted.

"Wanna bet?" At this, Harry was already standing. Viktor stood there, his stare already gave the answer.

Harry smiled devilishly. "You asked for it." And when he was about to charge, Fleur stepped in between them.

"Boys—stop!" She ordered, laughing softly. "I don't want any funny business happening here—Oh Viktor, listen to me! I don't see why you two have been trying to throw each other out of windows every chance you two get!"

"He threw me first," Harry said, a smile tugging at his lips. "I was just...returning the favor."

"Well—stop it." Fleur said, slightly irritated now. "I don't want you two beating the living daylights out of each other!"

"Shooting will continue later, four a.m. Be there!" Dean shouted from the snack bar before Harry could react. Seeing as it was already ten o'clock in the evening, Harry got up and went to the dressing room to change. He saw his phone nestled inside his messenger bag, thinking that he hadn't checked it in a while, he started at it, he had twelve messages and three new voicemails.

Not even bothering to check what those were, he threw his phone back into his bag. He picked up a pair of jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and started undressing. Wiping the fake blood from his chest with a damp towel, he washed his face and then changed clothes. It was now 10:30 and he dug in his bag for his phone. He pressed it to his ear and then listened to the voicemails. One of which was dated three days ago.

_"Hey, Harry. It's me, Casey. Your dad left already. And Ginny and Draco were asking for you. That's all. Just thought you should know. Honestly though—it's not like they could contact you themselves, is there something going on that I don't know about? It would be nice to hear from you, and I hope that your work is doing okay."_

He waited for the next message which was sent today.

_"It's me again. Remus told me to tell you that your dad told him to tell you that he left for Rome, I don't know why he asked Remus to tell me to tell you even if he's your dad but I did it anyway."_ He heard her laugh nervously.He couldn't help but crack a smile, too. _"Tonks' stomach is getting bigger by the day. Take care of yourself. No more broken arms, alright?"_ Harry chuckled, while putting his things inside his bag. He sneaked his extra shirts inside, his pair of glasses in the side compartment. He picked up his wallet and placed it inside his pocket. There was another voicemail, which was also sent today.

_"Oi, Harry. It's Draco, I just called to let you know that Casey's going to my house in Chicago to spend Christmas with us. If you're not busy, get your ass out of that thing you call work and join us. Remus and Tonks won't go this time, though. Don't you want to marvel at how rich I am, Potter? Because you'd be a real—Ow!"_ He heard Ginny hiss something in the background, also a loud thud, and from afar, Harry heard Draco speak: _"I was only joking, honey. Yes, yes, I know. But—" _and then the call ended.

"Jackass." Harry mumbled, still smiling. He formulated plans on how he would bend his schedule for time in Chicago with his friends. He smiled at the sheer thought of a vacation.

But he thought too soon. The other messages were from producers and agents. Informing him that they booked dates for interviews, promos and photo shoots. Also guest appearances for talk shows—he groaned inwardly at how busy his schedule would be, now that winter's about to come. He would be working non-stop for a week. He might not even spend the holidays with Draco, Ginny and Casey. He was actually looking forward to seeing her.

---

"You really didn't have to make me hot chocolate, Remus." Hermione said, as she saw Remus pouring each of them a cup. She wrapped her bathrobe around her, and nodded in appreciation when he handed the mug to her.

"I wanted to, anyway. Dora is still asleep." He replied, stirring his cup with a spoon.

"Asleep? But it's already noon." She commented, glancing at the direction their room was. Remus turned his head too, as if Tonks would emerge from the hallway any second.

He chuckled slightly. "She was too bothered about the baby kicking last night. She couldn't even sleep."

"But still—must be pretty exciting, having a baby." She said, sipping on her drink. She stared out the window and into the garden and wrapped her arms around herself, sighing. "I mean, sometimes it just makes me wonder if I'd ever find the right person, though."

Remus chuckled, "We all have to come across that point sometime in our lives. Some people might not even find the right person. But you mustn't lose hope. Dora and I are very lucky to have each other. I don't know how I could go on without her."

"And she wouldn't know how to go on if you left too, you know." She reminded him.

"I hope she could forgive me if I do." He mumbled, sullen and pensive. His grim mood rubbed off her, and soon she found herself staring blankly into space. Thinking.

"So, Casey, where will you be spending your holidays?" Remus piped in, snapping her out of her trance. She smiled at him.

"I'm headed for Chicago at around December. I'll be staying with Draco and Ginny, though." She frowned, she surprised herself by sounding disappointed.

"I thought that you enjoy their company." He said, observing her. Hermione looked at him, alarmed.

"Of course I do!" She told him, feeling embarrassed. "I do enjoy their company, really, I do. But then, I don't know. I'm too much of a hassle to stay with them. I'm sure they would want to spend their first Christmas engaged privately. I feel like an intrusion." She sighed, bringing the mug to her lips for another sip. She took one big gulp, and she suddenly felt warm again. "It would be too late to say no. Maybe I should stay at a motel close by."

Remus nodded, and encouraged her to go on.

"But I haven't had a decent job since September. I was supposed to be working for Harry as his intern but then he made me stay. I think I'll have to go job hunting again."

"Why did he make you stay?" He asked.

"Well, you won't like the sound of it, but my family has issues, and well—I'm a pretty stubborn person." She gulped, "But then, I left for America not too long ago. They're just worried about me." She couldn't continue any longer.

"Ah, persistent parents, eh? Harry's parents are persistent as well. James and Lily were always worried about him. He used to be bullied by his cousins and schoolmates. But he was always close to Sirius—"

"The dog?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"No, Sirius the dog was named after my friend—Harry's godfather. He passed away when Harry was eleven."

Once again, Hermione felt another blow to her stomach in grief. First his mother, and now Sirius? How much had Harry endured in his life? Even his eyes could tell a story, oh how she missed staring into those eyes.

"I'm sorry..." She choked, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

"Don't be."

---

"Harry, we're about to leave. The car's there." Seamus said, knocking on his door. The four actors renting a flat right now (namely Fleur Delacour, Seamus Finnigan, and Viktor Krum). They decided that it would be convenient to rent a humongous furnished flat near the studio, like having only one ride, and going out to parties at night. It was actually more expensive to stay in a hotel suite during the whole period of shooting.

"Just give me five more—What?! Wait—what time is it?" Harry said, sitting up.

"It's 3:45!" Seamus said, this time a bit louder.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry whispered to himself, throwing off the covers and rushing towards his closet. He pulled a random shirt over his bare chest, and then put on a pair of khaki shorts that reached to the middle of his shins. He put on his socks hurriedly, not caring that they didn't match—they were both white, anyway—and then slipped on his shoes. Grabbing his brown messenger bag, and throwing two extra shirts and a pair of jeans, his cellphone, some cologne, his mp3 player and a six-page script, he zipped it up and slung it over his shoulder.

"I'm coming!" He called, running towards the dining table. Where Fleur was clearing out the dishes, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

"Everyone's outside." She informed, "Dean just told me that I wasn't included in the scene, so I'll be there at around six."

"Okay," He said, and grabbed a piece of toast from the table. "Thanks."

He said a quick goodbye and gave a quick kiss on the cheek. He ran out the door nearly tripping down the stairs, "Hey, guys, wait up!"

When he arrived outside the building, Seamus and Viktor were already boarding the van. He sent his co-workers nasty stares when he entered and took a seat next to the window.

"It would've been nice if you woke me at around three or two." He said, scowling.

"It would've been nice if you set the damn alarm." Seamus retorted, and in turn, Harry received a blow to his side while his two cast mates were laughing.

Harry stifled a yawn, and rested his chin on his right hand. "I'm going back to sleep."

In his dream, Harry saw Hermione walking down a deserted alley. Her hair was damp and dingy. Her clothes were wet with a mixture of water, sweat and bits of dried blood. She was hugging herself tightly, and was in the verge of tears. She looked scared, and out of no where, she started sprinting, heaving ragged breaths. Her feet were splashing on ankle deep puddles, and she made her way through a bunch of dumpsters. She winced when a shard of glass created a gash on her upper right arm.

Harry felt stuck to the ground, and he felt himself running towards her, but then he couldn't. He couldn't move and do anything as he saw her plunging into the darkness. His jaw was dropped, and he was screaming something, but there was nothing that came out. A deafening silence attacked him, and he found himself mumbling his name over and over again. As he saw her disappear completely, into the dark, unwelcoming void in front of him, he was sucked back into reality.

The car seat shook as he jolted awake, and then he was in an unfamiliar place. "Where am I?" He asked, he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins; his forehead was starting to moisten with his sweat. Viktor turned around to look at him, Seamus surveyed his appearance.

"Hey, Harry, you alright? You look like shit." Seamus concluded, looking at him. Viktor sniggered.

"I—er, thanks, Seamus." He said, realizing that he was only in the van, he squished his arm inside his bag and rummaged for his cellphone.

"Are we there yet?" Harry asked, burying his arm deeper into his bag, "I really need to make a phone call." It was already on it's eight ring and no one had answered yet. "Goddamnit, Casey. Answer the damn phone." He mumbled under his breath.

Hermione was sleeping soundly in Harry's bed again, finally getting rid of the dust. Although she knew that he would hate her for barging in his room and 'contaminating' his bed with the so-called 'cooties'. She could just imagine him being all childish and huffing and giving her the puppy-face he would always make when he wanted something from her. Giggling, she rolled over in bed and hugged the pillow tight and drifted off to sleep.

The sound of her phone ringing at 4 in the morning went unnoticed—she was too indulged in her dream that involved books, marshmallows and her pet at home, Crookshanks. But the constant vibrating annoyed her, so she stirred and reached for it blindly.

"Hmm?" She asked sleepily, her eyes were still closed, and she was still drifting in her dream, half-asleep.

_"Casey? Are you okay? Where are you?"_ She heard him ask her. She mumbled something incoherent.

_"Wake up."_ He sighed. She fluttered her eyes open sleepily, recognizing that voice.

"Harry?" She asked, yawning, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. She sat up on the bed and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Why on earth would he call this early?

_"Where are you?"_ He repeated.

She looked around, in panic. "I'm uhm—at my room. Yeah, my room."

He heaved a sigh of relief, _"Okay. That's good. Sorry to bother you so early. Bye"_

A look of irritation formed on her face, it was probably evident in her voice as well. "Harry—wait!"

_"Yes?"_

"I—uh, don't hang up yet. I haven't spoken to you in weeks now. How's work going? Anything interesting? Where do you stay?"

The low chuckle that escaped Harry's lips reverberated in her ear. It sent chills down her spine. She had truly missed him. _"Hectic. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. Work's been tiring. I can't wait until all of this is over—I'd probably spend a whole week sleeping."_

She giggled softly, it was nice to hear his voice again. Not that she hasn't heard it every other day—his voicemail was beginning to get... sickening, and annoying, and boring and robotic.

"So you're going to spend Christmas with us at Chicago?"

_"Uhm..."_ He began, after a long silence, he finally continued and said with a sigh, _"Sorry, I can't, I've got a few talk shows to do, interviews, and photo shoots during the holidays."_

"But Harry..." She started, and searched her mind for a reason—a really, really good reason—on why he should spend Christmas with them. She found one that seemed reasonable, but she was sure that we would likely say he couldn't go, even if she told him that she missed him. But—this was Christmas, surely everyone would come home for Christmas. Surely everyone would be given a day off. And if someone isn't given a day off, surely the person would ask to for a day off, right? Right? Did he really _want_ to spend time with them, or was this just some crappy excuse?

_"Sorry, Casey, I've really got to go. Bye."_ The line went dead. Then something came to her. What if, he really wasn't who she thought he was? What if he didn't like spending time with his family and friends? What if he enjoyed show business more? All the evidence pointed to it. His rush to leave for the next plane to God knows where, his love for being alone in his room, not returning calls and messages, why he sounded so happy with his co-workers—of course she had watched the behind the scenes segment of his movie. What if he was just fooling around with her feelings for the second time around? What if? What_ if?_

It was like a painful realization. Who was she to think that they were actually close friends? Who was she to think that he actually liked her? If he did, well, he would've dragged her with him to work as his assistant, or maybe call more, or maybe actually care that she was bored out of her wits, staying in a stuffy mansion doing nothing, won't he? What if the reason why he had her stay was not for her safety, but so that he could go a day without her annoying and persisting questions? Those possibilities stung as soon as they crossed her mind, but she had no doubt that they were true. In a subtle way, he _had_ fired her, after all. She wanted to kick herself in the stomach for her unbelievable guts. What if he was avoiding her because he hated her persistence? Her mind was swirling in answerless questions, and with Harry constantly hanging up on her and avoiding her, she concluded they would never be answered.

"Bye." She whispered to no one, the phone still pressed to her ear. As if expecting his voice to pop back and say sorry, and that everything would be fine.

---

It was already November 1st, Ginny laced her fingers around Draco's hand, seeking comfort. She looked up at him worriedly as they stared boarding the plane. "I think we should go back. We could go some other time." She confessed. She held on to her purse tighter, and furrowed her eyebrows.

Draco stared at her, and bent down to give her a kiss on her temple, and hugged her close. "You promised." He reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. It was true, she had promised that there was no turning back, boarding the plane would be her last decision. So far she had packed and unpacked already ten times in the last 4 days. Although she was convinced that her parents would approve of her engagement with Draco, she was afraid that they would say that she was too young, or the wedding was rushed or whatever parents were supposed to say. She was scared out of her wits in going to spend two weeks at their house, she just couldn't shake off the uncertainty. She hugged his waist, and rested her head against his shoulder while they were walking towards their seat.

"I just don't know what'll happen. They were trying to get me home a few months ago..." She trailed off when she glanced up at him. His gray eyes staring at her.

"It will be fine, Gin. We'll do fine." He said, grinning lopsidedly, she nodded quietly. They entered the slightly vacant first class section, and then settled on down their own booth.

"I just don't see why we have to visit them." She complained. "They know that we're practically married anyway."

He set her on his lap, and hugged her fervently. "Well," He breathed, "We already wrapped the Christmas gifts, packed our formal clothes. It would be a shame to miss out on all their preparations for our advance Christmas celebration. Besides, wouldn't it be better if they knew that we _were_ married?."

She took a shaky breath, when she felt her cheeks burn with the feel of his lips on her neck. "Of course! But—you're right. There's no turning back now. Now—put me down, Draco."

"Say it." He said, staring up at her. "Say it and then I'll put you down."

Ginny threw her head back, whining. "No." She said.

"Go on. Say it."

"You'rethesexiestmanalive." She whispered quickly, turning her head to see if anyone had heard her. He shook his head, chuckling.

"What was that?" He asked, his gray eyes twinkling in delight and mischief. One of his trademark smirks were plastered on his face immediately. Ginny sent an icy stare, and took a deep breath.

"You're the sexiest man alive." She mumbled, avoiding his gaze, she was turning pink already and her eyebrows were furrowed. He grinned widely.

"That's my girl!" He gave her a quick and simple kiss on the lips. And then he set her down on her seat. She turned bright red in embarrassment, and folded her arms across her chest, pouting. Draco smiled, she's always cute when she does that.

"Don't pout, dear." He comforted, and brushed a strand of her ginger hair away and tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm visiting my parents. Why shouldn't I?"

---

It was already November 1. Hermione decided that it would be the day she would look for a job. She had her resume ready, although it wasn't an impressive one, it would have to do. She settled down with the modest and simple job of working behind a snack bar at a movie house. She had already called and set a job interview. She was happy that they weren't tio strict on their requirements. So she wouldn't need birth certificates, just an ID, a resume, contact details and a tolerance with the smell of popcorn.

She thought that the manager was a dear, too. Her superior, Tess, was an enjoyable and lenient person. She was actually a year older than Hermione, had straight blond hair and prominent amber eyes. She had a better figure than Hermione. She was tall, she was thin, and she was even friendlier and more charming to the costumers.

At around eight o'clock, she went downstairs to cook breakfast. She thought that it was fair to cook breakfast since either Tonks, Ginny or Draco had done so since she arrived.

"Wotcher." Tonks greeted, entering the kitchen. Noticing that Hermione was already wearing a pair of brown shorts and a tan shirt, she said "Where are you going?"

"I was just thinking that I'd make breakfast and then leave for my job interview. I didn't mean to wake you."

Tonks waved her hand in the air, as if trying to get rid of a bug floating about. But Hermione realized that it was only a hand gesture. "Ah, no. Don't blame yourself. Ella did it."

"Ella?" Hermione asked, impressed. "Sounds like a heartbreaker."

Tonks smiled gleefully, and began to speak, with a bit of triumph in her voice. "Well of course she'll be. Takes after her mum."

They talked pointlessly about anything under the sun, Tonks was keen to not bring anything referring to Harry, though. She had noticed that Hermione had stopped sleeping in his room, stopped calling, and most importantly, stopped talking about him.

"I've got to go now. Please tell Remus that I was asking for him." Hermione said, as she settled the dishes in the sink. "I'll wash these when I get back."

"Oh—buy me cranberries!" Tonks told her as she started heading for the door.

"Cranberries?"

"Yeah! I've been craving cranberries all day." She explained. Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Okay. I'll drop by the market later."

---

It smelled like popcorn the moment Hermione reached the glass doors. She was again swirling in a void of answerless questions, she was even mentally slapping herself for _choosing_ to work in a snack bar, not that she hated it. She just wondered on how she went from an heiress to _this._ Although she had accepted it already, it wasn't like there was anything she could do. But she had missed her life in England. She giggled softly at the possibility that her life be written down in a novel—it was _that_ dramatic.

Okay, so she had exaggerated—working at the snack bar wasn't so bad. All she had to do was fill buckets with popcorn, laugh all she wanted with her co-workers, fill cups with soda, and voila, twenty-five dollars a week. That's not much, but it's something.

"Casey!" Tess called from behind, running and hugging her. "Oh my god, I am so happy to see you!"

"Er—thanks, Tess." Hermione muttered.

"Aw, your accent is so adorable!" She chirped.

"I didn't know I had an accent..." Hermione said, thinking out loud, Tess' smile was even bigger now.

"Now you know, then! Come on, let's get started." She said, dragging Hermione through the double doors and into a white corridor, she was chattering excitedly on how work was so fun and that she'll love her co-workers.

"I thought this was a job interview?" Hermione asked nervously, biting on her bottom lip.

"Oh, no, no. This is your first day! Didn't you receive the call? I left it on your brother's voicemail."

---

There was another voicemail on Harry's phone, which was sent to him early, at around 6 a.m. Harry pressed his phone to his ear.

_"Hey, you know the drill." _His voice said. He had changed it the other day.

_"Hello Casey, it's me, Tess from the cinema.__Yes—I'd like to inform you that you don't need to go to the interview today! You've already been accepted! Isn't that great? I hope to see you at work, alright? You're going to love working with us!"_

At the end of the beep, Harry stared at his phone. Troubled.

---

"Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. No, no, no. That can't be right! I don't have a brother!" Hermione explained, "Who did you call, Tess?"

She looked pensive, and stopped on her tracks. Her finger tapping the wall in concentration. "I think his name was Henry. You provided the number, didn't you? Well, every time I called it was his voicemail."

Hermione stood there, like her blood had run cold. She knew that. She _knew _about _who_ she was talking about.

"I—I don't know anyone named Henry. Sh-show me the number." She said shakily, balling her fists in irritation and nervousness.

"Oh—hold on," Tess said, digging her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. She took out a neatly folded piece of paper, "Here."

The numbers of Harry's cell phone were written neatly by Hermione's handwriting on a torn piece of paper. She analyzed the number, reading it over and over again in her head. How could she, in the right mind, accidentally give away the personal number of a multi-millionaire? She imagined herself getting into trouble, Harry had done his best to only let his friends and agents get the number, and sworn them to secrecy.

_"Do you promise?" Harry asked. He and Hermione were inside his room—with the door locked. He cradled her hand in his, staring at her._

_She started laughing, throwing her head back when he started chanting something that sounded oddly like 'I call upon the rainbow' "Do I really need to? I mean, it's just a number! You're acting as if the whole world depended on it!"_

_His jaw dropped, as if she had said the most disgusting thing in the world, as if she had started a war, as if she had cursed in front of an innocent three year old—well, in the way he was acting, he could actually pass for a 3 year old. She started laughing again. "Well—it's not just a number! Do you know how much I've tried to keep this number a secret? Do you know how hard it was to keep it away from websites and the like?"_

_"But, come on! You even have a ritual set up!" She laughed, gesturing towards the poorly drawn teddy bear in the middle of the circle they were standing on, they both put a lock of their own hair in between, Hermione had done so grudgingly. A flashlight was in the middle, since Harry didn't want to ask Tonks for candles or anything—he was too lazy. "I mean, you're like some paranoid voodoo guy! Do you do this with everyone?"_

_"No, cause the moment I locked the door to my room, Draco started running to the window, shouting for Ginny." He said, chuckling._

_Hermione's jaw dropped, and then she started laughing again. She sat down on the floor, and couldn't stop laughing. She was clutching her stomach. Harry started laughing too. "Harry!" Was all she could make out, and then ended of on the floor. "But—but, why a teddy bear? Do you know how gay that looks?"_

_"I am not gay, besides, I thought you liked teddy bears! If it were up to me I would've drawn a dragon!" Harry argued, gesturing to the piles of crumpled paper scattered all over the floor by the corner of the room._

_"Oh please, you draw dragons by making a squiggly line and two dots for the eyes!" She teased, he looked offended and she giggled more. _

_Harry pointed to the drawing of a dragon that Hermione had made only minutes before. It was drawn like how girls would've drawn it—it had cute eyes, a girlish smile, loose blonde locks, nice long eyelashes, a pink ribbon on top, lipstick, and was wearing a purple dress, it looked perfectly fine to her. "And you call that a dragon? Looks more like an ogre with scales, if you ask me!"_

_"Yeah, right—it's better than yours!" She retorted, now standing._

_"At least I wasn't called The Buck Tooth Wonder during preschool." Harry attempted, remembering the time she told him, and started laughing, too._

_"Hey, my teeth are perfectly fine now!" She shot back. Harry remained silent._

_"Why are we even doing this?" She asked, still laughing._

_"Shush!" Harry yelled, shaking from his stifled laughter, and took her hands into his again. "Let's concentrate. Close your eyes."_

_"No, Harry! I refuse to close my eyes!" She laughed, more tears coming to her eyes._

_"Do you want my number or not?" He asked, he was serious now._

_"I—I do, but, I think it's just silly—"_

_"So, do you promise to never reveal this to anyone?" His emerald green eyes were piercing her, like they had often pierced her._

_"I—" She began, and then sighed in defeat. "I promise."_

_He smiled a toothy grin. "Okay, then." He was serious again, he put the piece of paper firmly on her palm. And gave her a quick hug. She hugged him back, knowing that Harry would leave in around a week. "Thanks. I trust you, and you know that."_

_He trusted me? Rubbish._ She thought,_ complete and utter rubbish._ _And besides, he didn't leave in around a week, like he told me, he left two days after that. _Friends trust each other. And she wasn't even sure if he considered her a friend, even if he didn't, she'd probably still be there for him. It took her all her might to control herself, to blink the tears away. If it was that important to him, no matter how shallow the matter was. Hermione shook her head, and look up at Tess, who was looking at her with her anticipating amber eyes. In one swift movement, she had torn the piece of paper into twos, and then fours, and then eights. Then stuffed it in her pocket.

"Oh, I don't know what came over me. The last few numbers were wrong. I'm terribly sorry, Tess." She mumbled quietly.

"It's not a problem," She said. And brought her through the double doors. There were two people engulfed in a game of battleship.

"Kirk, Annabelle, meet your new co-worker, Casey." Tess said.

The girl Hermione guessed as Annabelle who was dressed in all black, had arctic blue eyes, and was wearing a red apron that read "Premiere" which was the name of the movie house, rolled her eyes. "Don't call her co-worker. It's too professional." She said bitterly. "Now Kirk, don't be such an ass and move your damn ship."

Kirk, who had dirty blonde hair and sweet brown eyes looked up at Hermione. "Hey there. I'm—Hey, watch it, Anna!" He was now glaring at the girl who was staring back innocently while rubbing his shin.

Tess smiled at all of them, then brought Hermione to another room. She handed her a cap, a red apron exactly like the one Anna was wearing, and gave her a run through. So Kirk would cook the hotdogs and popcorn, Anna would be in charge of the drinks, and Hermione had to be the one to man the cashier and hand out the food to the costumers.

"Anna will help you out when you have any more questions." She concluded, Hermione gave her a grateful hug and then went back to the staff room, where Kirk and Anna were now engulfed in a game of monopoly.

The movie house would open in twenty minutes, and Hermione had nothing to do. So she plopped down on the sofa, and watched Kirk and Anna play, amused. She started formulating stories in her head out of boredom. She made up a story that Kirk had a crush on Anna, and she was too punk to admit that she liked him too.

She thought of stories in her head, about people. Like Draco was probably the first one to ask Ginny out, or maybe that Tonks did the first move on Remus. She predicted that Tess was a former pageant queen and was now trying to get Kirk to notice her. She laughed darkly at the thought of more unlikely stories in the head. And then her thoughts drifted from that to her former job. The tiring hours, the odd coincidence that she lived with his best friend, she would no longer be rushing, and crying tears of frustration. She'd be free to do whatever she wanted at work. All she had to do was stuff buckets with popcorn, hand candy bars to the customers and greet them politely, she was suddenly thankful that she didn't have an arrogant boss with jet-black hair, glasses and emerald green eyes to remind her of Harry. But still.

She missed working with him. She missed his presence, and even though she would never admit this to anyone—or to him, for that matter—she even missed his stupid dragon drawings.

---

**A/N: I'd like to thank pstibbons for suggesting that I put in more information about Casey's job, and on why she had to stay. I hope you guys know now on why Harry had her stay, right:) I hope you liked the chapter. Please, please be patient with me, as I might not update soon. **

**Review... please:)**


	14. Awkard SilencesAgain

**A/N: Sorry, it's been a while. But, hey, here I am now! So sit back, relax, and enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. :)**

**Chapter 14: Awkward Silences...Again**

---

Hermione was walking Sirius along the shore. She was mindlessly wading on the warm sand of the unusually empty beach at around sunset, her flip-flops in one hand, and Sirius' leash in the other, and she plopped down on the fine sand, and hugged her knees. Sirius lay obediently beside her, seeming contended with the hotdog he had just eaten only minutes ago. She could feel the sea breeze press against her, blowing through her hair. The breeze embraced her face, bare arms, and legs in a relaxing atmosphere as a peaceful cloud of thought floated above her. She had been deprived of it time and time again.

Finding the perfect moment to unleash the thoughts that she had forcefully tucked at the back of her mind, she closed her eyes to think.

Her thoughts transferred quickly and in an unorganized manner. Her thoughts shifted from James to Her parents, to Fred, to the icy water, to her frantic screaming while finding a way to get out of the taxi. She shivered slightly, and hugged herself tighter. A few tears threatening to fall. She was so scared... so scared, and what was even scarier was that for a millisecond, she had actually accepted it. Her thoughts jumped once again, and again, and again, making her head swirl in painful memories.

_Stop._

She was on the verge of tears again. She tried hugging herself closer, and rested her head on her knees, thinking of what to do with her life. She was single, had a job with an okay pay, living in a stuffy mansion of someone she hadn't seen for almost a month, and she was now sitting by the shore, clenching her teeth to stop herself from crying and even considering on moving out. But what about Remus and Tonks? They were the two people who managed to keep her sane and well, human. It was always the three of them, the three of them huddled close together on a dining table, the three of them sitting by the fire place in Remus and Tonks' room reading, it was always the three of them sitting side by side watching television at night.

But sometimes it would either be Hermione and Tonks, or Hermione and Remus. She was informed of his having leukemia yesterday, and she remembered bursting into sobs at the sight and thought of the frail man that might not even be there watch to see his unborn child growing up. He nodded along with all her babbling about how it wasn't supposed to be like this, and that he looked perfectly healthy, and everything would pass but he had this _look._ A look that Hermione couldn't quite forget. He looked ready.

Soon Tonks joined in with her crying, and tried to console her. It was heart wrenching, and she worried, she worried the whole day that he might collapse and never wake up again. She worried about him. Life was just so unfair, he was only in his mid 40s, already sick with cancer—well, not right now, but the disease was under his skin, ready to pop back and say 'Hello everybody! Did you guys miss me?' any minute.

Hermione left Harry's house and went to the beach, deciding to give Sirius a walk. It was weird how her life managed to crumble into a million little pieces so easily—and in such a little amount of time as well. She shook her head, and bit her lip, knowing fully well that her time of happiness would be over. She had her share, and she thought that it was selfish of her to desire so much more. Her happiness and bliss was like fire, and now it was extinguished, with small trails of ash and the faint smell of burning to remind her that what she had felt was anything but a dream.

Ashes...

Was that all to be left? To remind her that she actually lived, memories to remind her that she was actually _happy_?

'Of course not!' Her mind argued. 'Harry, Draco, Ginny, Remus, and Tonks will be there for you, don't be so glum!'

She seemed doubtful and shook her head in a pathetic attempt to store those thoughts and voices at the back of her mind. She grabbed Sirius by the collar and scooped him up in her arms. Even if he was obviously too big. Giggling. She was giggling softly, carrying the heavy dog with difficulty while walking along the shore. The dog had a very human look on his face. As if saying, 'you're humiliating me, you know'. She set him down on a large rock, patting his head.

"That's a pretty awesome mutt you got there." Someone said from behind her, she turned her neck to look at the low voice who had said it from behind.

"Excuse me?" She asked, now facing the stranger.

His brown hair fell messily over his eyes. He brushed it away, giving Hermione a full view of his coal black eyes. He squatted beside her, and his calloused hands were raised to pet Sirius on the head. He was in orange swimming trunks, and smelling like salt water. He was probably a surfer.

"I like your dog." He said, a bit clearer this time.

Hermione looked at him and nodded once. "He's not mine."

"Well," The person said, giving Sirius one last pat on the head. "Maybe we could talk more about your dog over dinner, if you like."

She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. Cheeky, this boy was. "No, thanks."

"Oh." The guy said, disappointed, "You looked kind of lonely so I thought that—"

"I'm not lonely." She snapped, glaring. "I have a date. With my boyfriend. Later."

He nodded, mumbled something incoherent and left her. She sat back down on the sand, drawing useless figures on it using a stick.

Yes. She was lonely.

---

"Wake up, sweetheart." Ginny whispered to her fiancé, Draco grunted and turned around so that his back would face her.

"Come on. Everyone's leaving, Draco." She said quietly, nudging him by his shoulder. He got up reluctantly and slowly, stifling a yawn. He looked at his soon to be wife, and smiled sleepily.

"Good morning, Ginny." He greeted, Ginny nodded, and stood up to get the bags at the top compartment. Draco wrapped his fingers around her wrist, giving a slight tug towards the seat, she sighed in defeat and sat back down, letting him handle the luggage. He brought the things down with ease, and they walked to the car parked right outside the airplane in silence. He could feel her hands become clammy.

"How are you feeling?" He whispered to her when they entered the car. There was only a driver, and two security guards by the front row.

"Typical of father to not pick up his daughter from the airport in person, he's probably not home too." She grumbled.

"Things must be pretty busy. He's got six sons and a daughter who are eligible to be next in line for the throne and the person must be married to take it, too. And in only a year." He told her.

"I don't want the damn throne! And besides, it's already the 21st century! Arranged marriages shouldn't even exist anymore." She folded her arms over her chest, and leaned against his shoulder. Breathing deeply, and soon falling into a peaceful sleep before Draco could console her.

The ride had gone rather decent and fun, Draco engaged in some small talk with the driver and security guards, they already knew each other. It was around lunch time when they arrived.

"We're here." He said softly, tucking a stray strand of ginger colored hair behind the woman's ear. She instinctively snaked her arms around his neck as he scooped her up in his arms. There were people gushing out of the entrance as they made their way through the giant double doors and passed the foyer, they took the suitcases and their belongings up to their respective rooms—much to Draco's dislike, they weren't allowed to share bedrooms.

The house—or more like palace—didn't change at all. Draco still remembered those soft velvet curtains hung loosely by the windows and the marble floor looked exactly like the way it looked the first time he went there. It was still a stunning abode, it was adorned with expensive portraits and antiques, carpets and gold rimmed furniture, not to mention the unique charm and ambience it held.

He slowly ascended the stairs towards Ginny's room with her limp and sleeping body in his arms. "Shh. She's asleep." He whispered to Ron, Bill and Charlie who had greeted him by the stairs and formed a circle around him. George was silently waving behind them, and for a brief moment, Draco expected to see Fred too...

Draco kicked open Ginny's bedroom door, and set her quietly and carefully on her bed. She rolled over and slept.

She looked like an angel to him.

"Good to see you guys home." Ron said. Smiling.

"Likewise." Draco mumbled.

"Have you seen Hermione yet?" He asked, and Draco sighed.

"I haven't. You've got to fill me in more. I don't know what's going on." He suggested to Ron, leading them out of Ginny's room and leaving the door slightly ajar in case she needed him.

"I'll tell you about it later."

Draco had found the Weasley family fairly pleasant, Ron was very crazy and easy to get along with. Percy, who was at work, was very reserved and quiet, he always kept to himself, even gave him a ratty bathrobe wrapped in cheap gift paper for his birthday. Bill and Charlie, on the other hand, were the people Draco would turn to for advice on handling his future company, or maybe talk about politics. George...was never the same again. He seemed very lonely and sometimes cranky. Fred's death was disastrous and depressing to the family.

He didn't even know how the Weasley's could possibly have hired a person to hunt Hermione down, it was so unlike them.

---

"It's me." Harry said quietly into his phone. She sighed.

_"Look—I, Harry, I—I just wanted to actually do something with my life, and besides, I want to help out.."_

"Of course, I know you do, Casey, just, just be careful." He pleaded, the images of her in his dream still vivid and etched in his mind, the image would not leave him even if he closed his eyes. He sat on the edge of his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve his distress.

_"Well, I can't promise anything, you know how clumsy I am."_ She said, trying to lighten up the mood. _"But, hey, this is the second time you've called since you left! You've obviously got some thing worth telling, right?"_

"You go first." He challenged, chuckling.

_"Well, I dozed off around the house a lot, I've had really special moments and conversations with your voicemail, I found a job at a snack bar in a movie house—very nice. And I accidentally gave your number to—"_

"Accidentally?" Harry laughed, "How could it have possibly been accidental?"

_"You know me, very careless."_ She said sadly.

"And very unpredictable." He added, she giggled.

_"Yes, and very moody." _She sighed.

"And very lovable and cute. Don't forget that."

He heard her gasp, _"Is that really you, Harry Potter? I believe it not! What have you done to the coffee begging, iPod listening, soap opera ruining, egotistic son of a gun I once knew?"_

"He's still here, actually, but he's like that to someone else now, certainly not you."

_"Well, who? Who's the poor guy?"_ She asked curiously.

"Bob."

_"Oh dear, so here's a wild guess: He's living with another best friend of yours who happens to be living next to where you're staying and turns out to be on the run and was attacked by men in suits the day you met him. Am I correct?"_

"Oh, _no. _There's only one person with a life _that_ creative." He remarked, feeling better.

_"Really? Who is it then?" _Hermione's voice echoed teasing and taunting him. Harry suddenly missed her joyous nature.

"That's really none of your business."

_"C'mon, humor me."_

"What if I say no?"

_"Then I'll go there and kick you."_

"That can be arranged," He smiled at the thought. There was a terribly long silence. Awkwardness floated between them. Making Harry's heart constrict with nervousness or maybe that something might've gone wrong.

_"Do you hate me?" _She asked out of the blue, as soon as her laughter from the previous joke had died.

"No. Of course not. What makes you think so?" He answered after a while.

_"So you don't?"_ She asked.

"No, I don't. Really—are you crying?" He asked, he could actually hear her trembling. Her sniffing, and a small sob escape her small lips.

"Casey? Was it something I've said? Something I've done?" He was afraid of those questions the most.

"Please. Say something." He sounded desperate.

He remained still, his breathing escalating with worry. His only solace was the steady breathing on the other line, and her faint breathing. After a few minutes or so, she spoke:

_"I just miss you. And Remus, he—did you know that he has leukemia? I'm scared. For him, for you, for Tonks, for everyone. I—I'm tired of being scared, Harry. I'm tired of hiding and waiting. I miss Fred. I hate my parents, I—"_

She started crying again. Harry remained quiet, waiting for her to speak, praying silently that she was okay. He didn't even know who Fred was. The only Fred he had known was already dead, laying in peace six feet below the ground. Fred must've been a sibling, or maybe a co-worker or an ex-boyfriend. To think of it, he doesn't even know her that well. He never even knew where she went to school, or where she used to live, what she used to do, anything about her family.

"Let it all out..." He mumbled.

_"I need you."_

But for some unknown reason, he had felt better with her than with anyone. But it didn't matter. She needed him. _Needed._ And that was enough.

"I—" Harry began. "I need you too."

---

"I loved her." Ron began, when he sat in front of Draco. "I thought we were going to be a one great big happy royal family, you know? Vacations to the Caribbean every other year, or maybe trips to Paris every now and then.

"The day before the wedding... She left. I don't know how but she wasn't there the next morning. I was devastated. We were 21, young, and so in love..."

"Please get straight to the point Ron." Draco requested.

"Well, Mr. Granger is getting loony now, he even started lying, that Harry Potter was going to marry _my_ Isabella, and that Hermione would be back in the palace in half a year's time. I don't see why we couldn't just go on with our lives. He's been searching for his daughter for the whole two years now. But I admire his effort, Also, I do recall her being found in your apartment."

"She was." He said.

"Why didn't you discuss it earlier?"

"I thought that you were asking if I have seen her lately. But no, I haven't seen her since then."

Ron massaged his temples with his thumbs, "I hope she's okay."

Draco nodded, "I hope she's okay, too."

"Draco?" He heard Ginny call out from the corridor, appearing in front of him in the same clothes she had worn that day. She got up and gave him a short kiss on the lips then sat beside him. She smiled tiredly at him and smiled at Ron, too.

"Hey, Ron. How are things?" She asked. Her brother snorted.

"Why don't _you_ tell me? I can see that humongous ring on a particular finger from here." He laughed, Ginny had forgotten on how much she had missed her brothers, her home.

"Congratulations, Ginny, Draco." George greeted.

"Thanks." They said at the same time, smiling. George was grinning too. All the other Weasley's said congratulations, and were laughing with them.

"Well? I think we should celebrate!" Molly Weasley said, laughing. And then proceeded to pushing everyone into the hallway in which their respective rooms were located, she did this while saying: "Just in time! I've just prepared a feast for all of us! Everyone, dress up and we will meet each other at six in the evening in the west ballroom!"

There was excited talking and laughing reverberating the hallways as the siblings were walking back into the room, Draco and Ginny were grinning madly.

At the said time, the Weasley family and Draco were assembled in front of the large marble doors that would, in time, show them the west ballroom. Classical music started blaring, and the doors creaked slightly as they slowly opened. It was huge, it had a long table in the middle of the room and a dance floor. There weren't much guests since it was so sudden, but everyone clearly had no problem with it. The velvet curtains hung loosely covering the large windows.

When everyone was seated, Arthur Weasley came in, in his dress robes and positioned himself on the seat by the center of the table.

"Oh! Ginny, darling, didn't see you there."

Arthur Weasley was slightly...eccentric. He has an interest on magical artifacts and he believed that magic existed in the world. There is one specific room in their palace that was heavily guarded which contained all his most treasured things—which, to thieves and snatchers and anyone for that matter, gave the least appeal. Once, he came home holding a rock that saying that when tapped with the so-called 'genuine' wand he had, it would turn into a goblet.

His children never paid attention, always counting on his adviser to help make the decisions to govern the country, until one night he came home announcing that he had the most splendid conversation with a man named Mr. Richard Granger who happened to agree to introduce his only daughter to Arthur's youngest son, Ron—who seemed the most likely to be chosen as the next king, there was a requirement though, that he must be married to be king. Mr. Granger's design went unnoticed—Hermione and Ron seemed to like each other.

Thus came the birth of his design to get Hermione back as soon as possible, for when she and Ron tie the knot, their estates will combine, the Weasley family's money filling both their vaults.

Mr. Granger was a man of power, he had enough money to support the poorest people—but he didn't. Instead he had become proud and boasted his three or more mansions that are now becoming useless, for his only child and daughter, Hermione Granger, had refused to marry. How could a small family of three—now two—live in those gigantic mansions of theirs? Mr. Granger was slowly losing money.

"It's good to see you too, dad." She replied to her father.

"You know, I have had the most interesting day. I went to the museum again and visited suspected venues in which witches were burned." He had said this statement, despite its gory nature, with such enthusiasm.

Before Ginny could come up with a comment, he spoke again, "I suspect they didn't burn at all! They must've had a charm, or a spell that made the fire feel cool on their skin. No wonder most witches looked relaxed and pensive when they came in contact with fire!—their screams weren't convincing at all! Isn't it all making sense? The paintings and the stories and all of it? Magic does exist, dear! Now, I wonder if they had a school..."

"Dad." Ginny called, thinking that the moment her father had looked at her signaled that she go on with what she was about to say, "Draco and I are engaged."

"Perhaps they had professors, headmasters...What was that, dear?"

"I said that Draco and I are engaged," She repeated. He nodded along when she explained how she wanted the wedding to be. Sometimes, to Ginny, he was tolerable.

Draco squeezed Ginny's hand softly, whispering jokes and comments as the dinner went on. _"Percy's certainly amused by his food."_ He told Ginny, seeing Percy staring with a disgusted face at the piece of meat he could not distinguish; he was engrossed in toying with it with his fork and knife. She started giggling uncontrollably.

During the main course, someone had brought up the topic which was discussed too much.

"Any news on 'Mione yet?" Percy, oblivious to the death glares Ginny and Draco were sending towards him, asked.

"Oh, not yet. She's very complicated. Draco told me that he saw her walking past the corridors of his apartment building the same day George called her and told Mr. Granger, but was not able to get a good glimpse." Ron informed.

"But I don't see why George would call the guards after her, I heard that she almost fell down a flight of stairs. Someone had saved her though, but I don't know who." Draco piped in.

"You're mistaken." George said, "I did not call those guards, for the thousandth time, I contacted Mr. Granger, and when I found out about what was going to happen, I called immediately to apologize."

"As if apologizing would work! You've just driven her off." Ron accused.

"The real problem here," Ginny announced, "Is that there is a possibility that Mr. Granger hired a group to help him find Hermione. They didn't look like his guards. Besides, George had that conversation with Hermione only around two hours before the incident. Mr. Granger's security forces would've arrived later than that. I believe that there is someone we do not know about, someone who is powerful enough to have his or her employees scattered around the world and constantly watching her. Richard has certainly a lot of money left in his back—all though I do not deny that his vault is almost empty—to hire someone, someone first class—someone potentially dangerous and intelligent."

"Don't say that, dear," Molly said, slightly shocked. "Mr. Granger probably didn't mean to do anything."

"Besides," Ginny continued, "What is the use of having Hermione back? Ron is obviously in love with Isabella! This is the 21st century. Arranged marriages are things of the past. Don't you think that we should fall in love?"

"We all thought that Ron and Hermione were in love," George reasoned, "We all thought that it was the truth, it wasn't an arranged marriage to begin with, they looked happy and unconditionally in love with each other. But, Mr. Granger had a different view of things, views that he did not wish to share to anyone."

"That's why we've stopped contacting him for some time now." Ron said.

"So," Draco said, out of curiosity, "What will happen if Hermione shows up?" all have the chance

"Sadly," They all seemed to say in unison, "It's all up to her father."

The family continued on with their feast, but with a thick and heavy air surrounding them, giving them more awkward silences than necessary. The sad thought of Hermione's fate and situation floating amongst them.

She couldn't stand it, so she stood, and seemed firm. "We can't let this happen, everyone. We're going to stop that blasted father of hers."

Everyone smiled and started chattering, probably of plans or maybe just to break the ice. Either way, Ginny was happy. She was well aware of Hermione staying warm and cozy at Harry's house. At least that was what Hermione told her.

---

Hermione woke up the next morning with a small smile gracing her pink lips. Not only did Harry call last night, but reassured her that he would be back soon, and that, in her opinion was enough to keep her through the day. Work was turning out enjoyable, for Hermione was becoming closer to Anna, who had a unique beauty to her. She was very outspoken and frank, vulgar at times. She and Hermione were complete opposites yet their friendship continued to bloom while standing beside each other for hours a day during work doing practically nothing.

"Do you really think he likes me?" Hermione asked her one afternoon. "I mean, maybe he meant something else."

"Honestly, Casey. If a guy says he needs you, then it's pretty obvious that he likes you. But who gives a shit about a guy who's a thousand miles away? You're hot, single and there are a lot of single and equally hot men here." Anna remarked, giving a sweet smile to the guy who had just passed by.

"I guess you're right." Hermione sighed dreamily, absently picking a few pieces of pop corn and eating them slowly.

"See? Forget Harry." She said happily. She had no knowledge whatsoever that the Harry Hermione was referring to was the Harry Potter.

"I can't."

"Oh, honey," Anna said, giving her colleague a hug, "It'll be alright."

She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, it wasn't as if she hated him for calling after a long time—she was glad, even—but she just hated the fact that she was starting to miss him more and more as each day passed.

---

**A/N: So, how was the chapter? I'm sorry it took so long, real life was getting in the way. :) I hope you guys loved this chapter I worked on it really hard, and I explained a few things here. Please review:)**


	15. In The Morning

**A/N: I'm back!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

**Chapter 15: In The Morning**

---

It was late-November, the air started getting colder. Two weeks as passed since Draco and Ginny's departure for London, and she expected them to return in a few days.

Things have gone rather slow for the movie house, and Hermione found her job well… decent. Anna was one of her close friends, as well as Kirk.

Well, she hasn't heard from Harry in a while, and was starting to be more comfortable without him. Although, even if he was there, it was like he wasn't there too—he just didn't pay much attention to her, to her disappointment. Except for the occasional how-the-hell-did-this-happen situations, they pretty much didn't bother each other.

But the million dollar question was:

Why did it bother Hermione so much now that he was gone?

Was it the lingering smell of his cologne or the way she would just expect him to come out of his room and help make breakfast?

Hermione sighed, so she wasn't so comfortable after all.

At least work is more enjoyable, she thought to herself as she leaned on the counter. She had been too caught up with Draco and Ginny, worrying about them, that she hadn't seen the man who approached the snack bar.

"Erm, two buckets of popcorn, two large sodas, two chocolate bars and oh—one of those gummy bears over there." The man had said, although Hermione, too lost in her own thoughts didn't seem to hear him.

"Uhm, excuse me, lady." The man said impatiently, tapping on the counter.

She turned towards his direction, and then tried to fake a smile, "Okay, uhm, that will be—Harry?"

He smiled at her, his emerald eyes twinkling, "The one and only."

She had found difficultly with speaking, her jaw had remained locked and immobile as it hung. "What—what—"

"That doesn't matter." He said, "I want those snacks, the movie's about to start."

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and then nodded curtly. Why was Harry back? Where the hell did he come from?

Why didn't he tell her?

"You're back because you want to laugh at me." She grumbled, as she filled the two buckets of popcorn. He watched her with amused eyes, following her every move.

Soon, she was able to make them, setting the snacks in front of him, she leaned on the counter and put her head on her hands, a mocking smile on her face.

"These snacks are for two. You're on a date, aren't you?" She asked, giggling.

Harry copied her position and then said with a tone of innocence, "No, what if I just wanted to eat a lot?"

"That's unlikely." She concluded feeling her heart drop as soon as the words were about to escape her, "Who's the girl?"

"Someone I know." He said, his eyebrows furrowing. He smiled cheekily, a smile Hermione noted to be an excited one. She tried not to frown.

"So there is one. Oh, well," She said, trying hard not to sound disappointed, although she didn't convince him enough. "Have fun. Tell me how the date is back at home."

He grinned cheekily—not one of politeness or to say goodbye, she had just called it home. He waved his hand in the air, "Depends." He said, nonchalantly. With difficulty, grabbed the snacks off the counter "It depends if she shows up," he called over his shoulder and then walked slowly inside one of the theatres. She glanced towards his direction for a long while, and tried to convince herself that it was a hallucination. She tried to pretend that Harry was miles away, shooting his film and doing whatever he does and certainly not here. She pretended that the last time she had seen him was over a month—she had lost count.

Her meeting with Harry was dreamlike—she had never expected him to show up on a boring morning like this in November.

Her anger was more intense now, why, oh god, _why_ did he have the most screwed up timing? She had finally managed to cope with him not being there, but, _live_ without him was completely out of the question. Well, she used to tell herself, stop overreacting, he'll be back soon. But the effects were colossal. She had felt more alone than ever. Missing him and wishing to see him without any explanation on _why _she felt such was infuriating

And somehow, it hurt her even to know—think—that he was going on a date with someone. Someone probably prettier and smarter and had more meat on her bones—Hermione, as everyone had told her, was way too skinny—and her hair was probably straight and silky. And the thought of him coming back for her—yes, and not Hermione—made her feel more unwelcome than ever.

As Hermione started fixing around, she had noticed a ticket on the counter surface. She picked it up slowly and then eyed it suspiciously. She flipped it over.

_You're right, the snacks are for two._

_-Harry_

She grinned, thoughts of that other woman diminishing completely, and started tracing his handwriting with a goofy smile on her face. She sighed, and then put the ticket back on the counter, leaving it unattended for a few minutes, and with an embarrassed frown, she slipped it in her pocket.

"I have to work." She whispered to herself. But then, she glanced around, and with one satisfied smile, she threw off her tacky red vest and jumped eagerly over the counter.

Her feet pounded on the pavement as she ran towards the far end of the movie house, and when she turned towards where the cinema was located, she entered it carefully and looked around.

"You came!" Harry said, turning to look at her.

She felt like she was in a dream, an illusion, something that would cease to exist.

I'm dreaming, she thought to herself.

The image of Harry, his black hair windblown as he stared running from the front row towards her, his smile, the way his lean muscles would flex with every step, his pale skin glowing by the light, the emerald eyes that made her knees weak, it was picturesque. It seemed impossible that she was the person he was running towards her, too perfect for her.

Wanting to make the happiness last, she shut her eyes and hugged herself, waiting for her to wake up before anything happened. She hugged and hugged tightly. Trying to preserve whatever lightheadedness she felt after seeing him.

There was something warm on her shoulder, slightly shaking her, "Casey, are you alright?"

Hermione looked up, "You're here? For real?" The tone of her shaky voice had surprised her.

"Of course I am," He whispered softly, and then his arms enveloped her, and she dug her face into his jacket, "You sounded upset on the phone the last time we talked."

"We only talked a week ago." She mumbled weakly.

"I was worried."

"Stop worrying."

"I won't."

"I want you to."

"Why?"

"Stop worrying okay?"

He sighed and left her plea hanging, and then hugged her tighter, "I've missed you."

She melted into his arms, sighing. Little spasms of happiness bursting through her, the blood rushed to her cheeks as she returned the hug. The musky smell of his cologne and the slow, rhythmic rising of his chest after every breath comforted her, and she felt like things were okay.

"Come on," Harry said after a few minutes of standing in the silence, "The movie's going to start."

He squeezed her hand and tugged her as she scampered down the stairs towards the front row. She laughed, a smile plastered on her face as she squeezed back.

---

"Wake up," Harry murmured, shaking her awake.

Hermione glanced around, and rubbed her eyes, "Wha—?"

"You fell asleep." He mumbled, and felt her shiver. "Are you cold?"

She shifted a bit, seemed uncomfortable but said, "Only a little bit."

He stood for a while, and it gave Hermione a chance to look around, the movie screen was black, the credits had just finished, and the lights were dim. There were bodyguards at the distance and she smiled and waved hello. Soon, Harry leaned towards her and put his jacket over her, like a blanket. He leaned in, and kissed her forehead, and then sat back down beside her.

Even if the blanket was warm enough to keep her from shivering; she still did. "Wh—what was that?" She asked, somehow afraid to hear him answer.

"What was what?" He questioned, sipping on his soda.

"That forehead thing." She said shakily, gestured to what he had just done.

"It was a kiss." He said, looking at her weirdly. His eyebrows were quirked, and his stare was seeping into her, he had a very human expression. The way he said it made her feel more embarrassed than she already was, like this was the most normal thing in the world for them.

"Oh, sorry, I thought it wasn't that important, you know." She said with a hint of sarcasm, sighing, and after a while, with a confused tone, she asked, "What's going on?"

"What?" Harry said, turning to her. "What are you talking about?"

"All this." She said, "You've been gone for a real long time now, and you've only spared me three or four calls. I only know what goes on with you whenever I happen to flip to the right channel at the right time. And now, now you're back, and sweet to me—don't get me wrong, I really appreciate you being here but—"

"You're freaked out that I've been acting so different." He finished for her. She sighed, and nodded.

"I thought you needed me." He mumbled quietly, his discomfort was evident.

Hermione froze and felt herself shrink, she was lost in a cloud of thought for a moment, and slowly she nodded, "I—I do."

"Then, what's so wrong with me being there for you?" He asked rather frankly, and it caught her by surprise. She had somehow expected something less…truthful. Something that didn't state the obvious—and yet she was oblivious to it all. When she had told him she needed him—and expected him to push her plea away—he actually came for her.

"Nothing." She said, and despite herself, she was smiling.

He smiled, "Thought so."

"Forgive me?" She asked, turning towards him sadly.

He smiled and then put an arm around her, "'Course I do."

"Forget that I ever said that." She ordered him.

"Said what?"

"That's m'boy." She said, and hugged him. She let go soon and giggled as her hands started ruffling his hair.

The day was spent in the theatre, they were playing around, and Harry told her that he rented it for the whole day—although it didn't seem possible, he did. Hermione had taken some convincing, she really couldn't tell if it were a dream or not because Harry Potter, who suddenly came back from God knows where, made it seemingly obvious that he needed her too.

And plus, she was enjoying it all.

---

"I can't believe he's back…" Hermione mumbled into the phone, and she heard the girl on the other line laugh.

"_It is shocking. But be glad, dear. At least you know where he is now."_ Her voice was vibrant and bubbly, and Hermione felt a little nostalgic after hearing Ron and Bill's voices in the background. A discreet sigh escaped his lips.

"How are the Weasley's, Ginny?" She said, avoiding the subject, and plopped down on her bed, and then lied down.

"_I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've missed them so much. Everyone's so happy to see us, and the wedding, goodness, the wedding. They're planning it now. We're extending our vacation to a week before Christmas."_

"What?" She asked, her jaw dropping.

"_We're extending our vacation, besides, Harry's with you now. Isn't that great?" _

"But—but"

"_Oh dear, we have to go. Bye, luv. Take care of yourself!"_

"Ginny—Damn it—"

And soon all she heard was the dial tone.

She cursed under her breath, and buried her head deeper into her pillow. She was excited to spend Christmas with them. But it turns out that they won't be back for another month. She closed her eyes to think, nostalgia overpowering her, and then thoughts of the secret person—no doubt someone her father had hired—to hunt her down…

Soon enough, she hadn't heard the door creak, and then the bed shift a little. There was breathing, rhythmic and slow breathing that comforted her, and almost lulled her to sleep.

"It sucks that they won't be back in over a month." The voice said. Her eyes opened slightly, looking to meet his with a confused expression.

"I heard it on the other line. It's not what you think. I was just going to call Fleur—"

"It's okay," She sighed, and then rolled over, her back to him. "You were going to find out anyway."

"You alright?"

"Yeah—I am."

"Okay. I was just checking up on you." Harry said, and she felt the bed shift again as he got up, his breathing was no longer there, his presence was gone, and she found herself uncomfortable and uneasy. And in a small, delicate whisper, she had said:

"Stay with me, Harry. Please."

Harry, although he wanted to tell himself that it was just something that he didn't hear, stood still and said nothing. He turned slightly, to look at her, and with a small ache in his heart, he had seen the extensive damage he caused her. She seemed so fragile and breakable, and a part of him couldn't help but wonder if he had contributed to her state. And with slow, cautious footsteps towards her bed, he lied down and went under the covers with her. He breathed slowly and softly, trying not to make her aware of the rapid beating of his heart.

He whispered words of comfort—she had found it sweet, even though he didn't know what her problem was. And soon, his presence was finally able to lull her to sleep.

Night passed, and morning followed, and light fluttered through the windows. Hermione stirred slightly, and rubbed her eyes. As she rolled to her side, her hand came in contact with someone's back. The feeling of his body made her jolt awake. She stared at him, and smiled in gratitude that she had woken up in more of a peaceful manner than the first time they had shared the bed.

Harry was at the edge of the bed, Hermione had to outstretch her arm to be able to touch his arm. And she smiled, smiled in giddiness as her face colored.

She scooted closer to him, close that her face was almost pressed to his back. Harry rolled over, and then lied flat on the bed. She propped herself on her arms and stared at him. There was a lightning shaped scar on his forehead, and she was tempted to trace it. And then she slowly wondered to herself on why he had never mentioned how it happened, better yet, why hadn't she asked?

She licked her lips in concentration, and lifted her hands. Her brows furrowing, and then her hands slowly raised over his forehead, she shifted and changed position, careful not to wake him. Her finger was only centimeters above his forehead, and, with one breath, she slowly grazed the flesh. The tips of her fingers running over the slightly rough texture of his scar, tracing the shape and the outline… And soon, she had run her fingers through his bangs, smiling softly to herself as it still remained unruly and short—now that he had cut it.

Afraid of him waking up, she stopped, and instead of rising, and starting her day, she decided to snuggle closer to him.

What had compelled her to do so? She never knew. Maybe it was because of the many hidden feelings and memories they had that she had kept close to her heart—too close, she had to admit.

And before things got out of hand, before she draped her arm around him and dug her face into his side and succumb to sleep once again, she stopped herself, and with a shaky breath, left the room to see how Remus was doing. The floor was uncharacteristically cold on the way to his room. She resented herself for not wearing her furry slippers, so instead of going back to her room—which seemed too far away, and, she didn't want to risk the chance of seeing Harry, she instead tiptoed and walked to Remus' quarters with shaking ankles.

Knocking slightly on the wooden door, she entered his room, and greeted him with a smile. He smiled back, and then she sat beside him.

"She's got work." Remus had filled in for her, and Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Harry is back, just thought you should know." She informed, trying to be nonchalant.

"I know," Remus said in a matter-of-fact tone, he tilted his head towards the door, and with a smug grin, he said, "He visited earlier."

Puzzled, Hermione began to say, "I thought he was asleep?"

Remus snorted, a childish, amused kind of snort. It made her smile slightly, "He's not an actor for nothing!" He exclaimed. The smile had faded from her face, as she stared at him in horror.

"Oh, okay, uhm…" She said distractedly as she stood, gave him a small hug and a kiss on the cheek. She crossed the room and stood at the threshold of the door, leaning on the doorframe, she said good-bye and asked him what he wanted for breakfast.

"I'm okay, I had some breakfast while you were asleep." He said, and then smiled.

She nodded, and then waved good-bye as she tiptoed to her room.

_So he had been awake all along._

And somehow, somewhere, inside the inner depths of her heart, she had felt satisfaction that he was awake. So she wouldn't have to explain things and lie to him, telling him that it was all a dream. She entered the room cautiously, and slid under the covers, and then a small smile was on her face when she saw Harry lying tangled in the sheets. She intended to lie down next to him, and in embarrassment, she moved towards the edge of the bed instead.

"Good morning." He mumbled, and she turned to look at him, and then smiled, "Where have you been?"

"Remus'." Hermione answered tiredly, and then rolled over to face him.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked with concern. She shook her head, and then laughed.

"You would know." She scoffed, and refused to return his glance, his stare was burning holes into her. She bit her lip.

"You got me." He said after a moment, succumbing to defeat. He sent her an apologizing look, in which she quickly returned by saying under her breath and fully aware that he could hear her:

"I always have." She closed her eyes, a silly and smug grin on her face. They fluttered open again, to meet his gaze.

They smiled for a moment, and then he started mumbling something.

"I'm going back to sleep. I'm not going to pretend this time." He then outstretched his arms and rolled over to sleep.

---

"I gotcha, right here. Yeah. Put your right foot forward—yeah, just like that, dear."

"I can't believe you're making me do this." Draco said in disbelief as she threw her arms around his neck and he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Well—Draco, we'll have to dance on our wedding, you know." Ginny mumbled, and then rested her head on his chest. They moved slowly, their hands clasped together as they swayed softly and slowly to the music.

They were in the middle of an empty ballroom in one of the guesthouses in the palace. They were circling slowly to a song that was completely familiar to them. Draco always had a problem with dancing—but, not the dancing per se but he lacked confidence and preferred to not dance in front of others.

And plus, he got nervous, Draco is rarely nervous. But Ginny had found it incredibly adorable about him. They looked funny, just two people locked in a close embrace, swaying side to side, like a stick being blown away by the wind.

"I wonder how Hermione is doing, especially now that Harry's back." She muttered.

"Don't worry about them now." He grumbled childishly, "So, I take it you've enjoyed your vacation?"

"Yeah," It took Ginny a while to admit it, and then she smiled.

They were in the middle of an empty ballroom, and she was teaching him how to dance.

---

"Casey," He muttered from under the blanket, she looked at him.

"Are we planning on getting up or sleeping in all day?" He asked.

She pretended to ponder on the question for a while, even though her answer was obvious, "We should sleep in—would be more interesting."

"Oh, really now." He said in a playful tone, and then moved nearer to her. She giggled.

"Tell me about yourself."

He shifted; "What's there to tell?"

"I haven't heard about your childhood…and how Lily was like…or how Sirius –"

She stopped at mid sentence, and saw how Harry had pushed the covers away, got up and with one strong thrust, closed the door behind him with an angry air floating around him. She sat up hurriedly, since things had gone strangely fast and now here she was. She felt like her heart sank, and she was alone. For the first time since Harry came back.

The anger grew, and she found that she angry at herself. She threw her hands in the air in exasperation, got up, quickly put a brown shirt over her and put on her jeans. She ran down the stairs and towards the garden, where Harry was sitting.

"Harry—"

"I needed air." He said quietly, and there was a small stone in his hand as he tossed it into the air and caught it again.

"Look—If you found it uncomfortable I'm—"

"No. It's okay."

"No, Harry, it's not—"

"I'm _fine_ Casey."

"Why do you have to be—"

"Casey—"

"Stop interrupting me!" She said angrily, her shoulders shaking with frustration. "Stop interrupting me!"

"_Stop interrupting me, Harry. Your father and I are talking about something important—No, Harry, no swimming today." Lilly's voice was stern and serious. And his four-year old self sat down in defeat. He threw his goggles to the floor, and then his plastic pail and shovel. He took off his slippers in a frustrated manner. His father had put it on too tight for him. He stood, wobbling on his two little feet and then left the room._

"_Unca." He called. "Sea-rus!"_

"_Hey kid, what are you doing? Where's your swimming gear?" Sirius came, emerging from the closet in a funny looking speedo that made Harry smile._

"_We're not going. Ma said no innerkuptin, the oshen is closed because Ma and Pa are talking."_

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to!" Her breathing was ragged and distressed, Harry didn't look at her, instead he shook his head, "We could talk about something else you know, all you had to do was say so. And now you're acting like some—some brat!"

"Ca—"

"I'm not finished! Harry, why does everything have to result to this when I'm with you? I—I don't get it. Sometimes I wonder what you feel. And to be honest, not being able to know, it downright pisses me off!"

"_It pisses me off, dad!" Harry yelled at his father. "It fucking pisses me off to know that you don't care one second about Lilly! You only care about drinking and your bastard of a boss!"_

_And soon, he had felt something sharp against his cheek, his father's knuckles bore deep into his face. And then repeatedly hit him in the stomach. Harry fell down in surprise and his father kicked him repeatedly in the stomach._

"_Here's—a—fact—kid." He shouted drunkenly, "Your—mother's—gone—and" One more strong punch on the lip, and he started bleeding, "Nobody—cares,"_

"—_About you." He finished, and left Harry on the floor, drifting to unconsciousness._

There was a long silence, and Hermione began to collect herself. "Why?"

Harry looked at her distractedly, and shook away those thoughts, "Are you finished yet? Because I've got something to say too." She nodded.

"Let's go out, have a nice lunch, maybe go sightseeing or hang out by the shore and then go back before dinner. Then maybe we could go for a nice swim. How does that sound?" He smiled smugly, and her jaw dropped. And she somehow felt more frustrated than ever. He waved his hand in front of her, "Casey?"

She stared at him, waiting for some hint or smile or expression that told her that he was joking. Surely, he must be! But she knew he was serious, it was in his eyes, and she was lost in them. Her ill feeling towards him were gone… completely gone. It didn't matter now that he didn't care or listen. At least she had told him, right? It took her all the humility and embarrassment to say, "Like on a date?"

"Like on a date." He repeated, and he held out his hand for her.

It was odd, she had the intention of coming up to him to comfort him, possibly and apologize. But no, it was he who comforted her. And that fight, it seemed like a million years ago.

And their morning was only a happy memory, part of the pile of good memories that were to be added soon.

---

Her hair was tickling him, the sun had set, and nearby, there was a beach party going on. They were at a secluded area, dancing to nothing. Just the faint screams of joy of the teenagers. She had protested, she really tried to force that this didn't happen. It was cold. The sea breeze was making her skirt flow and thus exposing her knees. And his hair was unruly and standing up because of the wind. She was falling for him.

"I want to play a game." Harry said quietly.

She snorted, "Going all 'Jigsaw' on me?"

He laughed, and she felt his hot breath against her. She smiled.

"How about twenty questions?" He challenged, they swayed and he twirled her around, she grumbled like a kid who didn't want to go to the dentist.

"Ten—" She insisted.

"Fifteen—"

"Eight—"

"Thirteen—"

"Five."

"Fine—Five. Five it is then." He said firmly, but still in a joking manner. She sighed in defeat, telling him to go on.

"What's your favorite book?"

"Well…" She began, "I'm too embarrassed. You'd think of me as a sappy and shallow girl."

He laughed, a laugh that made his chest rise up and down. "Come on," He said in a husky voice, "I've dated shallow women—girls," He corrected, "Try me."

"Pride and Prejudice." She said in a girlish manner. "It's adorable."

"Jane Austen isn't so shallow. I enjoyed the book—sort of against my will."

"Why?" She said, stifling her giggles.

"I played Darcy in a school play once. The director ordered me to."

"Ahh," She mused, "I remember that. I think we used to be schoolmates, Harry."

"I guess. Hermione was supposed to play Elizabeth, actually. But she backed out a few weeks before the play."

Hermione tried not to hide the frown, she did remember. She knew that Harry Potter would play Mr. Darcy and that she was supposed to be his leading woman. But then, because of another ball, she was forced to cancel it. It was too bad—they could've been good friends. She remained silent.

"If we were schoolmates," He began, "Why haven't I met you?"

"I don't know…I guess we never paid much attention to each other." She said, somehow forgetting that she was Casey Barrett, and once she had realized that, she felt heavy. The guilt was overpowering her, and she felt like her knees would give way.

Why in the world was she lying to him?

"I should have." He mumbled, and then he stopped abruptly. She looked up in concern, a playful smile on her lips. The cheers and laughter of the teenagers in the distance seemed to disappear, or was it that she was just lost in his eyes? In his scent? In his presence?

This five questions game, was, as she could tell, going somewhere. Somewhere that she well, did and didn't expect and her smile did not fade—of course, she was smiling for multiple reasons.

"You should have." She repeated for him, she tiptoed, and in response he bent his head, and leaned in towards her.

"You should have." She whispered against his lips, and she felt his breath against her lips. The wind caressed them, and his fingers grasping her waist tickled her. The blood rushed to her cheeks, and the grip around her tightened. Their lips met for a kiss that was long overdue.

_To hell with guilt._ She told herself, _To hell with guilt._

They were wrapped in each other's arms, and they didn't know how long they were kissing, or how long they remained like that, because frankly, they didn't care. Her fingers ran through his hair, and then rested behind his neck. The way their lips fit together, and her soft moans and mews made Harry want to kiss her more.

He trailed little butterfly kisses down her neck as she giggled in approval. He nuzzled her neck, taking in the sweet smell of Vanilla and Lavender in her hair. She sighed happily.

"Oh, Harry." She mumbled.

"Mmm?"

"Three more questions." She reminded. "We should get this over with."

"Did you enjoy today with me?" He asked, and they sat down, and then lay on their backs.

"Yes."

"Good." He whispered, and after a while, "What part did you enjoy about today?"

She whined, "Do I have to? You already know, anyway."

He smiled, and was amused. "No—honestly I don't."

"No way."

"Please?"

"The morning."

He chuckled, "Everyone loves the morning. It makes them feel alive."

---

**A/N: So sorry for the late update, school is hectic now. Well, last, last week I celebrated my birthday! I'm finally fourteen. This is my, let's say, gift to you guys for being such fabulous readers and reviewers!**

**I'm glad that I've finally posted this chapter. I've wanted Harry and Hermione to kiss for **_**ages**_** now! **

**I just want to explain, that this is an HHr-centered chapter. I didn't really intend on putting other scenes of the story yet. And well, Harry is back again. I know, I didn't really let it sink in that she missed Harry so much in the past chapters. But just to let you guys know, she really did. Thus the reason why she was very close to him in this one. Aaannd, we also learned a few things about Harry's childhood, btw.**

**I put a little D/G in this one to show how much Ginny loved the Weasleys and how much she missed them. It would play some importance in the next few chapters.**

**And lastly, I apologize for the kissing scene, I don't really go into detail when it comes to tongues, caresses and…you get the point. I try to make it up through their conversations XD**


	16. Tour Guide

**A/N: 'Anyway, presenting another chapter of RAP. : ) I'd just like to thank everyone also the **_**reviewers**_** for my **_**lovely reviews**_** especially to all of you who've been following the story since its publication. I enjoy the feedback.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.**

**Chapter 16: Tour Guide**

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"The morning makes people feel alive, huh?" Hermione asked, quirking her eyebrows, she changed position as the sand shifted beneath her. She started contemplating, no, she doesn't feel alive in the morning. Knowing that the huge mansion is empty. Knowing that a certain friend of hers is enjoying herself silly with the people she used to be in-laws with. The morning makes her feel dreadful, because it's the time to think; 'How will my life as Hermione Granger pretending to be Casey Barrett be today?', 'What's Remus' situation now?', 'Where is Harry? How is he?'

'Why do I feel so empty?'

"How exactly do they feel alive?" She asked, snapping out of her troubled thoughts.

"It depends on who you wake up with." Harry replied with a smile on his face as he turned to meet her gaze. He smirked as he watched her face color and the blood rush to her cheeks. She looked away immediately, hiding her face. He laughed. And her posture relaxed in relief.

Enough with the worrying, she told herself, he's here. He's real. You're alive.

"Don't be so shy." He chuckled, grabbing her by the shoulder. She wouldn't budge, her arms remained stubbornly to her, trying to conceal the mischievous smile forming on her face.

Harry's fingers trailed her bare arms, until he had reached her wrist, ignoring her quivering. He fingered the charm bracelet curiously. "Hey, Casey, where did you get this?"

"My parents gave it to me." She muttered, trying to jerk away from his grip.

"Wow. What does it say? Oh wait—L, I, F… Life?"

And many things had happened at once, he grabbed her by the shoulder again, and pinned her to the sand as he secured her waist in between his legs. Hermione's surprised yell was heard, and then it was closely followed by giggles. Harry tickled her, and she squirmed beneath him. She was going red. Harry bent down, their faces only inches, and then kissed her. She kissed back in between her giggles. She tried pushing him away to give herself a chance of payback, but her arms had fell limply to her side. Harry chuckled at her attempt.

"Get off me," She giggled, as he trailed to her collarbone. "Harry—" she was cut off by her own soft moan.

They heard snapping, and their mouths parted immediately, and then they looked up.

There were crowds of cameramen around them, smiling and snapping and shouting at them.

"Who's the girl, Harry?"



"Mr. Potter! Do you two plan on getting engaged?"

"Oh man, guess who's getting a raise? Smile for us, Harry!"

"Damn it," Harry had groaned against her ear. "Let's go—now. Don't run, okay? Act normal."

His hand grabbed on to her hands and he gently tugged her up. He bent down, and grabbed their bags. He brushed the sand off his shirt, and then brushed some off Hermione's.

"Harry, I can do it by myself, you know," She laughed. "Let's go."

They walked slowly, even though the adrenaline and embarrassment would not leave them. Harry walked quietly, putting an arm around her reassuringly.

"You can stop following us, now!" He shouted over his shoulder in an attempt to let them know that they've got their shots and that they could go now, but the cameramen would not comply.

Harry cursed under his breath, and hopped inside his car. He turned the light on, and then ushered her inside as well.

"Why are the lights on?" She asked him as she made herself comfortable on the front seat. Harry held on to the steering wheel tightly, his lips tightly pressed together. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to her his angered expression gone away, there was a cheeky smile on this.

"If it were off, well, they could make stories." He said, handing her the sandwich they were supposed to eat.

"Hmm," She mused, tapping chin with her index finger. "You're right. So what do we do now?"

"One more question." He reminded her. She held her breath, "What do you want us to be?"

She had frozen in her seat, and unconsciously exhaled shakily. "I—uhm…Well, I don't—"

"Just say it," He teased, smirking. "Two words. Two words, Casey. I'll even let you guess."

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The black BMW lay immobile, as the two people sat talking.

A mobile phone started ringing, and a photographer, who was sweating profusely due to nervousness, reluctantly grabbed the vibrating thing from his back pocket and then answered. When he had brought the gadget to his ear, he could hear the slow crackling of fire, as well as a hideous laugh that made him shiver from head to toe.

"_Speak,"_ The unknown voice had ordered.

"I, uh," The man had stuttered, "I have them."

"_Are you sure that they're genuine?" _



"Yes—of course." When he had said that, he heard a shrilly, eager kind of scream which was closely followed by a dark laugh—one of happiness. It was something he wished he had never heard.

"_Yes! You must, you must give them to me—wait, no, tomorrow, yes, tomorrow evening. You will sleep at a nearby motel, do you hear me? Leave them on your dining table wrapped with gift wrapper—yes, preferably green and silver. And by the next day, your reward would be inside your closet. You must, I repeat, you must not go out of your house for three days after we have taken them, alright?"_

"Okay," was his reply, for he couldn't think of anything else to say.

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Dolohov laughed victoriously, his strong hands pushing the phone back into the cradle. His deep laugh reverberated and bounced throughout the wooden walls.

"Finally," He said, "They're together. Took them long enough."

Riddle looked up from his book, his eyebrows quirking as his eyes glittered slightly with red. "I still don't get your plan, Dolohov. Don't make me regret summoning you."

"Mr. Riddle," He addressed, as he sat back down on his chair. "This is what I've been waiting for. Now that they're in a relationship, things get more interesting."

"Really," Riddle mused, as he traced the blade of the knife in his other hand, "How so? And please, don't tell me that you intend on scaring our Miss Granger, really, McNair was foolish, and look at how he would pay."

Dolohov had no idea, he just watched in horror as Riddle slid his hand into his drawer, and brought out a stout pen. He knew something was bad, he could feel it. Just by looking at the weak smirk that his boss had on his face, it made his skin crawl. Riddle's long fingers put the knife down, and stared tracing the pen instead. He smiled devilishly, and pressed the tip, and then started writing nonsense on his paper.

There was a sudden explosion, Dolohov looked out the window in shock, to see a small apartment building in flames. The foundation gave way as the building started collapsing. There were distant screams, and then he watched, as tiny little people left the surrounding buildings, running away.

"Poor McNair." Riddle snickered, "Who would've known that the moment he would dial the police's number on his phone, the building would end up in flames?"

"I wonder," He mused, Dolohov was immobile, there were people who retreated the building, bleeding and crying for help. He noticed a familiar figure leave the building, it was McNair, and then another quick explosion, and all he saw was his lifeless body. "I wonder how old Mrs. Roger living on the top floor was. She shouldn't have died."

Riddle hissed quietly, and turned to look at Dolohov with a crooked smile, his eyes slightly bulging as he tore the piece of paper in his hand. He threw it into the flames, "But she did, anyway. Oh, who cares?"

"N—nobody." Dolohov choked out.

McNair was his childhood friend.

"Exactly," Riddle said, his voice getting louder. "Exactly! So here's a question. Who would care if Harry Potter, The Granger Family, and the Weasley family would die?"

Dolohov didn't have to say anything.

"Nobody. Except our Miss Granger, who would ,well, as I predict, soon follow them." Riddle said, he stood eagerly from his chair.

Dolohov quieted, and sat down on the chair as his boss continued. "I see that McNair needed extra in order for him to die, hmm? Well, don't worry Antonin, you can always buy childhood friends."

Another shrill laugh.

"So… sir," He began shakily, regaining his voice. "As I was saying, we could just kidnap Hermione and then—"

"No." Riddle bellowed, "Have you not learned anything? I say, change your plan, Dolohov. A friend of ours provided us with, let's say, _enough _ammunition. There's plenty more. Enough for all of us to share!" His hand gestured to the burning building.

"We could always…annihilate our clients."

And so the plan was formed, within that night, Dolohov was taking a whole new route.

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"I'm so glad we're home." Hermione breathed, tripping through the front door. She laughed happily as she skipped towards the kitchen. "Hmm," She mused, bending down to reach the inside of a cupboard. "What do you want for dinner?"

Harry chuckled, and then joined her. "A little too excited, are we?"

"After spending two hours in your car?" She said rather joyously, "Of course I am!"

"Want some steak?" He asked, helping her bring out a few bowls, a pan and the kitchen knife. She laughed quietly, then turned to look at him with gleaming eyes.

"Sounds great."

He laughed, and then headed towards the stereo to put on some music. Soft, melodic music started to play. Hermione looked at him inquisitively.

"You always appealed to me as someone who listened to rock." She mused.

"I do. But you appealed to me as someone who listened to classical music." He whispered. She looked at him, and smiled.

"I'm still waiting for that answer." He mumbled.

They had spent two hours of silence in Harry's car, for Hermione, who couldn't think of what he was referring to, decided to stay quiet. Harry was not offended, for some odd reason. He was too absorbed in an air of happiness to be offended. And when he wanted to say something else, she had fallen asleep against the window. He pressed on the gas and the vehicle zoomed towards his home. He woke her up as soon as he got out of the car, and carried her towards the front door.



She regained consciousness, and tried to break free from his grasp—thus the tripping through the front door.

"Listen, Harry," she said and turned to lean on the counter in front of him. "All this—is great, really. But I don't really want to fall that deep."

"Yet." He added for her. She smiled at him.

"Yet." She agreed, "So—let's just be casual okay?"

"Casual. Okay." He told her, slightly disappointed.

"A couple." She said after moments of silence. He turned to look at her with a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"A couple." She repeated for him, the corners of her lips tugged upward into a smile as her face colored. "Two words, right?"

He leaned towards her, his arm snaking around her waist. He kissed her swiftly. It was a chaste kiss, their lips brushing in a sweet, delicate manner. She closed her eyes when she felt her grip against the counter loosen and her knees weaken, to savor the moment.

They parted, and she opened her eyes to stare at him, an embarrassed, yet girly smile appeared on her face.

"You know," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her. "It feels great to know that I can do that anytime I want."

She laughed, and turned around quickly, to hide her cheeks. She picked up the knife carefully, and started chopping the vegetables.

Remus, along with Tonks went down the stairs to see them. They smiled quietly as they watched them cook dinner together, occasionally sending each other meaningful glances, standing a little too close to each other, too. Also, when Hermione had accidentally cut herself, she clung on to Harry for dear life.

Something, to them, people in love would do.

Dinner was ready. Harry and Hermione were the only ones drinking red wine, and then Tonks and Remus insisted on going out for dinner, so that they wouldn't _intrude._ Hermione waved her glass in the air and slurred, "No, really, you can stay! Nothing's going to 'appen."

"Harry, you take care of her, alright? Fragile little girl, she is." Tonks said, laughing as she grabbed her coat and took Remus by the hand. It took them a while to be ready, but, unbeknownst to Harry, he had released a sigh of relief when they left.

Hermione now clung on to him, "My head hurts." She mumbled, Harry's gaze flickered to the now empty bottle of wine that she had consumed to her red face. 

"Just wait a moment," He managed, clearing the plates and putting the spare food in a container and placing it inside the fridge.

"Take me home." She whined. Harry turned immediately, and smiled.

"Here, stand on this chair—steady, now." He said, hoisting her on top of the chair. She looked at him quizzically as he stood in front of her, his back to her, unsure of what was going to happen.

"Put your arms around my neck—yeah, that's right. Hold on tight, and then your legs around my waist…Okay. Hold on. Don't let go of me, okay?"

She giggled, and hung on to him tighter, her warm body pressing against his, "Why would I ever do that, Harry?"

He felt his stomach do flips as soon as his body had felt her warmth and heard her sweet words. She was, after all, intoxicated with alcohol, but that didn't matter. He would, someday, have to hope that she would say that to him sober. But now, it just felt good to hear it. "Where do you want to go?" He asked her, she was extremely light in his arms.

"Wherever you want to…" She whispered.

"How about I give you a proper tour of my home?" He told her.

She snorted, "I've seen the whole house already."

"Yeah, but you've never seen it with me."

Harry couldn't see, but he could tell that she smiled, through the way she excitedly tightened her grip around him.

"Alright then." She whispered, "Let's see what this house is all about."

Harry walked slowly, as he went outside, "I bought this house when I was eighteen, after living with Draco for a while. I used most of my savings, and half of my paycheck. Remus and Tonks moved in. This house was closer to the family doctor."

He slowly walked around, passing through closets and stairs and doors, it suddenly seemed bigger now. "You know, my mum was fond of the beach. This reminded me of her."

"She must have been a wonderful woman," She slurred, and it piqued Harry's attention that her grip around him was loosening.

"I miss my mum." She said, her words connected and hard to make-out, but he did anyway.

He smiled softly, and then headed towards the garden.

He spent the night bringing her to different places of his home, but then Hermione was too persistent, she asked him to go on longer when he insisted that she should go to bed.

"You've had too much wine." He commented. She smiled.

"No. I'm just too giggly because I kissed someone today." She whispered excitedly.

Harry quirked his eyebrows, and with a teasing tone, he said, "May I know who?"

"You may not!"

"Is he someone I know?" he asked.

"Someone you know quite well."

"Lucky guy. Pretty darn handsome too." Harry retorted. She hit him playfully, and wriggled out of his grip. She stood level to him, a girlish, yet beautiful smile on her face, her hands firmly on his shoulders, her cheeks a bright shade of crimson.

"You _are_ handsome, Harry." She breathed, staring into the eyes of his handsome face, her knees started shaking.

He had never seen anyone so…perfect, so real, so beautiful in his life. Long, dark eyelashes, almond-shaped cinnamon colored eyes, rosy cheeks, porcelain skin, heart-shaped face, a cute, button nose, and red lips. Not only did this woman in front of him present such beauty, yet her wit and femininity surpassed others; her melodic voice was like music to his ears.

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**A/N: Sorry for the really short chapter and the long wait, I promise to make it up to you guys. ;) please review, they really helped me start this chapter with took forever to write, and the next chapter should be up sooner than this one, hopefully.**


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